Precious Memories That Never Fade
We can't do any more for her...
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Fourteen years ago he heard the words he knew would come eventually. “We can't do anything more for her here in the hospital,” the Doctor told him. “Insurance will not continue to cover the costs, so we are arranging for Hospice care.” Words that he know would eventually be coming, but he had hoped for a miracle.
He had a hospital bed delivered and set up in their dining room, close to her oxygen concentrator.
He brought her home on a Friday afternoon. She was awake and talking quietly as the hospice nurse checked her vitals. Their son and her brothers were there for support as she closed her eyes and fell asleep. She was exhausted from the trip home from the hospital.
The hospice nurse took him aside and softly said, “She won't make it through the night.” Even though he knew that this day would come, tears welled up in his eyes.
The nurse took his hand and said, “This will be one of the hardest things you'll ever do, but even though she may not respond, she can and will hear you. You need to keep telling her that you and your son are OK and that it's OK for her to go. She needs to know that it's OK.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand, telling her how much he loved her, that he and their son were both OK and that it was OK for her to go.
It was the longest night of his life, knowing that he was telling his wife of almost 35 years that it was OK for her to die. It had been a very long year for all of them after she was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis and that there was no cure. It was a year of her being in and out of the hospital and of him watching her deteriorate from a vibrant woman of 125 pounds to only 80 pounds when she died. It was devastating.
She made it through the night. He had laid next to her all night, holding her, reassuring her that it was OK for her to go. The nurse had been right. It was the hardest thing he had ever done.
She never regained consciousness and the next morning nobody from Hospice care had come or called. After several calls, another nurse arrived and checked her vitals. The nurse was not able to get a blood pressure reading because her pulse was so weak, so she told him that the time was very close and had him call the funeral home to be on standby. She told him to take their son and her brothers to the back screened porch while she cleaned and bathed his wife.
After she was done, she had each of them come in to say their final goodbyes. One by one, each of her brothers came in and sat next to her and then returned to the porch. Their son came in and said his goodbyes to his mother and went back outside. Then it was time for her husband.
With tears streaming down his face, he sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over and kissed her gently. He told her he loved her, but he didn't say goodbye. They had decided together that when the time came, he would not say goodbye, but instead he would say “See you later my love.”
As he held her hand, her breathing stopped. The nurse said that she couldn't record the time of death until her heart stopped. After a minute or so her heart stopped. Just before her heart stopped he felt her squeeze his hand softly and then she was gone.
Her name was Aledia, but we called her Lee. She was my wife.I was holding her hand when she died and for that I am eternally grateful.
"See you later my love..."
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