Let's be honest for a minute; NO ONE goes into a marriage thinking about the moment when their life can forever change. No one thinks about the moment when they go from spouse to widow/widower. I suppose if you are a gold digger, maybe you do think about that moment but you would be in your own group of people. I grew up dreaming of that fairy tale and the happily ever after and never thinking for a moment when everything changes.
I was not blessed to have a long life with my husband. Perhaps it is arrogant of us to believe that we have years or decades with our person. Subconsciously, we know that tomorrow is not guaranteed and we are mere mortals but for whatever reason, we are horrified when life happens and that person is taken from us and a future as we know it is stolen.Those traumatizing moments are ingrained in my head.
I remember the final moments with my husband vividly as if they just happened. I had been helping the nurse with his medicine that evening. Randy would focus on me and I would tell him, "I need you to swallow. Can you swallow this for me?" and he would. At around 1:30AM on November 6, 2019 I asked Randy if he wanted me to lay on the couch or lay in the bed with him. He didn't really respond so I then asked, "Do you want me to lay on the couch?" and he nodded. I was not upset or offended because he was in a lot of pain and he probably feared being bumped. Not 5 minutes later, he looked at the nurse and asked, "Where is my wife?" I stood up and went back to his bedside. His medicine then began kicking in. I kissed him goodnight and told him that I loved him. Randy replied, "I love you too". I laid on the couch and I heard a noise around 3:30AM. I saw the nurse with the medicine so I got up to go to his side to try to get him to swallow again. Randy then let out a gasp. I looked at the nurse horrified because it reminded me of the final moments with my grandmother. I started shaking, knowing that this may be it. He let out a second gasp and the nurse quickly put the medicine down and grabbed the blood pressure cuff and placed it on his wrist. I grabbed his head and cradled his sweet face against my chest and kept repeating "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." with hot tears streaming down my face. Randy let out one final gasp and then he was gone. At 3:33AM on November 6, 2019, my husband was declared dead. His beautiful life slipped out of my hands. In one moment, I went from being a wife to a widow. The life as I knew it was over before it truly had a chance to begin.
My mom normally had her phone on a "do not disturb" at night but had turned it off in case I needed her. Calling her at 3:33AM only meant one thing- he was gone. My parents rushed over to be by my side. I went upstairs and knocked on my roommate's door. I was hyperventilating and crying hard and kept repeating "he's gone. he's gone." She grabbed me and hugged me. It wasn't long after that my parents arrived. I curled up on the couch and attempted to make phone calls. I was not close with his family since they were very nasty with me. The very sweet hospice nurse knew that I did not get along with his mother and she volunteered to make the phone call to his mother. I was grateful. I will always be grateful that she did that for me because she didn't have to as that was not in her job description.
There then came the next few hours that were almost a blur. I sort of remember the nurse giving his body a bath. She cleaned him up before the funeral home picked him up. She gave me alone time with him to say goodbye. I curled up in the bed, crying so hard, telling him how much I loved him and how sorry I was because I never wanted to say goodbye. It's not my fault that cancer took my husband but I guess part of me will always feel like I failed him. I will always wonder if I had done something different, would he still be here? So I apologized because if there was something that I could have done differently that would have given me more time with him, I hope he would forgive me. But I kept telling him that I love him. I told him that so many times every single day and this day was no different.
The funeral home showed up to take him about 6 hours after his passing. By this time, my house was starting to fill up with friends and family that had come to be with me. Time seemed to stand still for me. Everyone was talking to each other and I was sitting on the couch in a daze. I had to go to the funeral home to make arrangements in a matter of hours and I eventually got up and changed to attend that meeting.
I know exactly what I was wearing when my husband died. I know exactly what I was wearing to the meetings with the funeral home and our church.These traumatizing days are tattooed in my mind forever.
The moment that changes your status will stay with you forever.
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