I have a friend whose wife is dying. Dealing with the death of a spouse is tough. She is in the last phase of hospice meaning she will die very soon. I lost my wife several years ago. I will share my experience. Perhaps it will help him. Perhaps it will help you; the reader.
We don’t talk about death enough
We know that death is inevitable. It is just not going to happen today. Even when we turned down Nancy’s oxygen, I didn’t accept she would die so soon.
Her last words to me were, “I love you, Bill.” That meant more to me than anything she ever said to me. I’m crying as I write this. Tears running down my cheeks.
Rebuilding my life
The hardest thing I’ve had to do is rebuild my life without Nancy. It has helped that I have important things I want to do. Work helps you deal with sorrow.
Nancy comes to me often. Sometimes it is just a fleeting memory. Sometimes it may be a timeless conversation. Always, It is a joyous occasion filled with sobbing. I never want it to stop. I don’t know if they are visits from the here-after or just memories from my subconscious. Our visits are very real to me.
I’m sobbing as I write this. It is not that I am sad. I just know Nancy is helping me write this. She always was my editor.
On our first visit, Nancy told me not to be sad.
I’ve got my life to live. I have important things to do, and soon, I will face my last great adventure where I will find out if my faith is justified.
Puck, our black and white cat, just came to my desk and demanded to be petted. He puts his head in my hand and presses down with all his weight. I rub in return. After five minutes, he steps back and politely asks for Tenders with a special, very quiet, meow. Who says cats can’t talk?