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Marilyn
This is for
those of you who have requested I provide a chronology of
grieving, a chart of a journey we undertook in 1985 and where
we went and how we changed. Finally, it is my response
to trying to understand where I am now, and what I am going
through. It is my hope that someone out there may be
helped and comforted by the understanding.
Marilyn died on
August 1, 2002. She had been admitted to the hospital
for severe low blood sugar, probably brought on by failing
kidneys. Her heart gave out that night, she passed out
and could not be revived.
Her journey
started in 1985, when she was diagnosed as diabetic. The poems
Words and
Three Words To My Wife reflect my feelings for her at the
time. At first, it was a inconvenience for the both of
us—retinopathy, slow healing, heart disease, but under
control, more or less. Except the smoking. We were both
smokers, she more than I.
Her heart attack
and multiple bypass occurred in 1989. There were several
hospitalizations for congestive heart failure, acute
bronchitis, etc. The kids had left the house at last.
We concentrated on her health more seriously, as more and more
she was unable to go much. We quit traveling, except the
occasional trip to Birmingham to visit her mother. She
went through a lot of laser surgery on her eyes during this
period. I concentrated on work and looking after her.
There was
just the two of us; the boys were all out and on their
own.
In 1992, we were
blessed with our first son's stepchildren, Morgan and Andrew.
They would visit almost every weekend and go to church with
us. We loved both dearly, and it gave Marilyn a new
focus. Our first grandson from our second son's
marriage, Zane, came in 1996. The apple of my eye to
this day. The
grandchildren were a joyous blessing!
More operations
came. Marilyn lost her gall bladder; then the first
amputation, her little toe. We spent a year in almost
daily rehab trying to get the wound to heal. It came
close, but osteomyelitis set in, and she had two more toes
amputated. She had cataracts removed from both eyes.
Her
world was closing in, but she seldom complained, even when
I could tell how much pain she was in. Her heart and her
kidneys gradually weakened. Her diabetes became more and
more brittle. She was still
my perfect rose.
The millennium
came. We both gave up smoking that year, on
Thanksgiving. I quit partly to support her in quitting
and partly because I had just gotten out of back surgery.
The neurosurgeon warned my back would never properly heal
unless I quit. I took him at his word. The
cardiologist had been after Marilyn for years, as had her
other doctors.
In June of this
year, 2002, Marilyn was back in the hospital with pneumonia.
She was worn down and extremely tired. I could see that
goodbye would be coming soon, but we both held hopes for a
few more years. 3 weeks later, she was back in the
hospital, this time for good. She
died, I hope quickly and painlessly.
I cannot tell
you what grief is like. It is letting go and holding on;
it comes like heavy surf at times, strong and
overwhelming. It is looking back with intense
longing and ahead with fear. It is quite literally
starting over. After a while, numbness sets in.
Where am I right
now? I am beginning to realize that the world will go
on, whether I want it to or not, that life is still there to
be lived. And so I keep moving, even when I feel all
dried out and dead inside. I don't have a choice.
It would be a disservice to Marilyn to quit. She was the
best thing to ever happen to me. She invested her life
to be with me. I owe her.
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