When you lose someone dear, everyone swoops in and wants to help. They bring food and flowers and cards and more food. You don't want any of it. Well you do but you don't know it at the time. We arrived home to a house full of food, fresh sheets on the beds, extra beds for extra visitors - it was amazing and awful at the same time. Because what it really meant is that it was really real, not just a bad dream.
When I left Steve's room, I handed my cell phone off to one of the kids. I couldn't handle what I knew would be an onslaught of friends offering their condolences. Good news travels fast - bad travels even faster. By the time we were in the car Kimberly was fielding calls of people offering frequent flyer miles to bring Aaron and my sister home. It was amazing. I let the kids handle all the details and I just sat in the car dumbfounded. I knew what the diagnosis was. I knew he would leave. I just couldn't grasp he was actually gone. I felt like a robot whose batteries were running down.
The real 'fun' was just beginning. We had to plan a funeral, buy the necessary land, etc. I now understand why people do this before they need it. They want to spare their family the pain of having to do that in their grief. Steve and I believed we would do that once the kids were gone. Once he got sick, it was the last thing we were thinking of. I am immensely grateful to Matthew, Michael and Brian for doing all the 'heavy lifting' in that area. They spoke with funeral directors, the cemetery, chose the 'box', etc. I just could not have done it all without them.
Then there was the extended family. Steve has many siblings. Not all of them were able to attend but 5 of them did. It was very nice of them to take the time to be with us. I am not sure we were able to express it at the time though. We had just been through something very private and very painful. With the exception of Aaron, we really didn't want to see anyone else. Its hard to explain and sounds very selfish but that is what we were feeling. We just wanted to be with each other. Brian and Britta even brought their airbed so they could stay with us. Michael stayed too. We just needed to be with each other. We were able to stay in our cocoon for a few days but on Saturday people started arriving. I don't even remember who arrived when. Renee is Steve's oldest sister and she was a dear.She came with her daughter Amber. I am sure I largely ignored them but I knew they were there. Steve's twin brothers from California and his youngest brother from Texas (with a sweet daughter in tow) all arrived together. It was bittersweet for them because they had not been close to Steve in later years. They discovered that their brother was pretty awesome and they just didn't realize. I was very glad to reconnect with them though and we will continue to stay in touch. Steve's brother David also drove up from North Carolina. By the time he arrived I was pretty wrecked so I am not sure if I even talked to him.
Sunday afternoon we had a viewing of sorts. The first hour was just for the family. The older boys encouraged me to say goodbye one last time before they closed up shop. It was a good choice. Seeing Steve in his beautiful and sacred clothing replaced the picture of the shrunken man I had seen days before. Afterward the 'box' (I don't like the other word), was closed but people came to pay their respects. We had visiting hours from 2-5. I expected a couple dozen people. I underestimated the love and respect people have for Steve and for us. People were lined up in advance of the time and they never stopped coming in. We stood the whole time. I could not believe how many people from our little town were there; teachers, town officials, neighbors, former sports coaches and co-workers. It was incredible. Monday would be the toughest day yet.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Monday, March 14, 2016
Two Months
It has been sometime since I felt able to write. A week after my last post, Steve lost his battle with cancer. Today marks two months since his passing.Sometimes it feels like it has been so long - other days it feels like it was just yesterday... I will try to share what the last little while has been like.
One of the things being talked about was moving Steve into hospice care. We talked with Steve about it Friday night and he understood all too well what it meant. Steve ended up having his Endoscopy on Monday not Friday. On Friday he was sure they were going to have some answers for him with that scan. But the weekend was long and he was just getting weaker. By Monday it wasn't really an issue for him not to eat or drink prior to the procedure, he wasn't that interested anyway. He had the scan and it simply revealed what we all knew. The cancer was doing its job on him. So what to do next?
We had some very special nurses caring for Steve. One in particular - Kristyn - was his most consistent day nurse and he really liked her. Tuesday morning she asked if she could be honest with me about her observations, I welcomed that. I felt like not enough people were being completely honest. She felt that Steve was not getting better and would I give her permission to talk to the team. ABSOLUTELY! She had been caring for Steve for 3 weeks and gave voice to what I already feared - nothing was working, we were treating symptoms but not making him better. He COULD NOT get better. As we talked to the team it was decided that we would stop pumping him full of fluid, stop filling him with antibiotics and just make him comfortable. no monitors, no blood draws, no poking or prodding. That same day the stake president dropped by and gave us both a blessing. Steve was very peaceful but seemed to have lost the ability to communicate.I could only read his pain level by facial expression.
I never left the hospital after Sunday. I was afraid to leave his side. That was a good choice. Wednesday evening there was a definite change and we felt the end was near. Miraculously all of the kids (except Elder Chidester) were back in town. So we all stayed with him that night, Talking, laughing, sharing memories and shedding some tears. We had great nurses who gave us blankets and pillows and staked out a conference room for some of us to sleep a wink or two. Zach and Britta made food runs so we didn't have to leave Steve's side. By noon the next day Steve was still with us so the twins went to their dentist appointment and the rest of the boys made a burger run. Kimberly, Stephanie and I stayed with Steve. After a while Kimber decided to serenade Steve with some Beatles tunes, After a few songs he was gone. January 14 is a day I will never see the same, My life was forever changed.
The rest of that day and the next few are a fog. I have never looked death in the face before and I hope I don't have to again for a few more decades. I will share more tomorrow,
One of the things being talked about was moving Steve into hospice care. We talked with Steve about it Friday night and he understood all too well what it meant. Steve ended up having his Endoscopy on Monday not Friday. On Friday he was sure they were going to have some answers for him with that scan. But the weekend was long and he was just getting weaker. By Monday it wasn't really an issue for him not to eat or drink prior to the procedure, he wasn't that interested anyway. He had the scan and it simply revealed what we all knew. The cancer was doing its job on him. So what to do next?
We had some very special nurses caring for Steve. One in particular - Kristyn - was his most consistent day nurse and he really liked her. Tuesday morning she asked if she could be honest with me about her observations, I welcomed that. I felt like not enough people were being completely honest. She felt that Steve was not getting better and would I give her permission to talk to the team. ABSOLUTELY! She had been caring for Steve for 3 weeks and gave voice to what I already feared - nothing was working, we were treating symptoms but not making him better. He COULD NOT get better. As we talked to the team it was decided that we would stop pumping him full of fluid, stop filling him with antibiotics and just make him comfortable. no monitors, no blood draws, no poking or prodding. That same day the stake president dropped by and gave us both a blessing. Steve was very peaceful but seemed to have lost the ability to communicate.I could only read his pain level by facial expression.
I never left the hospital after Sunday. I was afraid to leave his side. That was a good choice. Wednesday evening there was a definite change and we felt the end was near. Miraculously all of the kids (except Elder Chidester) were back in town. So we all stayed with him that night, Talking, laughing, sharing memories and shedding some tears. We had great nurses who gave us blankets and pillows and staked out a conference room for some of us to sleep a wink or two. Zach and Britta made food runs so we didn't have to leave Steve's side. By noon the next day Steve was still with us so the twins went to their dentist appointment and the rest of the boys made a burger run. Kimberly, Stephanie and I stayed with Steve. After a while Kimber decided to serenade Steve with some Beatles tunes, After a few songs he was gone. January 14 is a day I will never see the same, My life was forever changed.
The rest of that day and the next few are a fog. I have never looked death in the face before and I hope I don't have to again for a few more decades. I will share more tomorrow,
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