Awake at four am
I suppose it is right and fitting that I should ponder death and dying and the whys and wherefores 329 days after the death of my Love. On the front porch in my old ratty bathrobe while the dog is doing her morning business. But it is what it is.
As I sit here in the quiet listening to the birds chirping good morning and feeling the chill slight breeze, I reflect on dying. Contradictory thoughts are running through my mind.
I realize that the questions of the universe are not mine to solve. I just have to be at peace.
My mind travels back to a year ago and the deep sadness I felt watching my Love suffer at the betrayal of his body wracked by excruciating pain. How I prayed for a miracle that was not to be.
I don’t remember when my prayers shifted, but I know that they did. From asking for the miracle of healing on earth to begging that if that particular miracle was not to be, to please, please, please relieve him of his suffering soon and provide healing in another way by taking him to heaven because he was in such unbearable pain. (Just writing that sentence hurts my soul).
He taught me so much in that last month when I was with him every minute except to catch a few hours sleep when we weren’t on the phone because he couldn’t.
I learned that it is possible to remain dignified even in the midst of great suffering
I learned that it is possible to care for others more that oneself
I saw him turn into the “old Larry” when people called to ask how he was doing because he didn’t want them to worry
He still told bad jokes
He taught me courage
I saw him reminiscing and telling stories with the Rabbi
I saw him worrying about me
I saw him agonizing over being unable to do basic things for himself
I saw him making plans for the future, even though it looked bleak at best.
But he knew deep down that he wasn’t leaving the hospital. Because he told me. I knew it too.
The man who taught me to love and accept love also showed me how to suffer with dignity.
Another lesson learned.
The universe can wait.