I have lost several things in my life – my innocence too early, my grandparents, my personal possessions, my faith. I have lost pets and cried as I laid them to rest. I have lost my great-grandmother, whom I am most like according to my father.
I have gone to several foreign countries, heck I was born in Canada, and left pieces of me and my possessions there. But, the hardest thing I have ever lost in my entire life was my hubby shown in this picture.
As I reflect on last year, I sometimes wonder if I could have saved him. He told one of my brothers that if he could have been just a little stronger, a little braver, maybe he would have beat the cancer and been there for me.
There was nothing we could do. I remember sitting in the hospital, hovering over him, holding his hand as he explained to me that he could feel his life force bleeding away from him. He said, “I can’t crack this nut, Cyn.”
The doctors and nurses kept telling me that if I could get him to eat that they would start cancer treatment. I had thought up to that point that they would give him cancer treatment in the hospital. I was wrong. A week in the hospital and he was too weak to continue. I don’t even think his digestive system was working well.
Of all the people I dealt with during his death, Otto was the most honorable. I know that I became angry at one point. I think I quit eating to pressure him to eat. It was too late. He couldn’t eat. He thought he was eating. It was over except for the grieving.
I fought to the end. He fought as much as he could against his body. We didn’t get much help from the medical establishment. They were more interested in a DNR than getting him well. I even had nurses tell me that I was keeping him in this world against his will.
There were two things he told me at the end – “Time to Rest,” and “I want you to be happy.”
I have had some happy moments. I watch Foxy run down the stairs with her tail going a hundred miles an hour. I watch the hummingbirds buzz around the trees. I sit in the cemetery and listen to the planes fly over. Sometimes I feel peace.
I’ll leave you with Elizabeth Bishop and her poem One Art. It’s still copyrighted so here is the link. She wrote this poem in memory of the loss of a child.