Sitting and waiting

While I’m sitting here watching him sleep, watching him breathe, I keep trying to think about what it’s going to feel like when he stops. What is it going to feel like at that moment when I know for sure he is gone forever? When I know that he has taken his last breath? The answer is, I have no idea what it’s going to feel like. I just know that it’s going to hurt. A lot. This is the thing I think a lot of people are confused about with hospice, cancer and the kind of death that you know is coming.

I’ve heard many people try to compare the different types of deaths and try to say, “well, they knew it was coming,” or “well they had been sick for a long time,” as if that somehow means that they were prepared for someone’s death and that it didn’t hurt as badly. I have probably said it myself. How wrong I was to assume that just because you know something is coming, that you could ever possibly prepare yourself for a loss so great.

I don’t feel prepared at all. I don’t feel okay about the situation just because he’s been battling the disease for six years. I don’t feel ready to let him go. I don’t feel ready to think about life without him. I don’t feel ready to accept the fact that he will never know my children. I don’t feel like his last breaths are going to be any easier for me just because I’ve known for six years that this day would come eventually.

I don’t like to think about Thanksgiving without his apple pies or football games without his chicken wings. I don’t like to think about any holiday without his company. I am so thankful to have been able to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with him this year. I’m so sad we didn’t get to spend New Year’s Eve together like we had planned. 

When we got back from eating dinner tonight, he was alert again and I got to hold his hand and tell him once again how much I love him. The nurse said he is starting to show signs that peace is near but his vitals are still pretty good. It won't be hours but will most likely be within the next day or two. He is resting comfortably and doesn't seem to be in any pain.

It’s an awful feeling sitting and waiting for someone to die. At one moment you are hoping they go quickly so they will be free of pain and suffering. Then you think about them going quickly and you start to panic and think that you’re not ready for them to go. You want more time with them. You want to hold tell them you love them one more time. You want to hold their hand for a few more minutes. Then you start thinking you’re being selfish for not being ready to them to go and then you once again start hoping they go quickly.

But as the nurse explained to my mom, none of it is in our control.