Till Death Do Us Part

I am so thankful that it’s not a week ago tonight.

It was at this time that Will was going through the active dying process, which was way more painful than it should have been and went on too long before he got adequate relief. I can’t blame anyone for it, although I wish the on-call hospice nurse had had a little more fire in the belly and made transportation to the hospice facility quicker. As it was, nothing could have altered the final course of events, but did he really have to suffer that much? He did die peacefully, however, and for that I will always be grateful to God and the wonderful hospice facility nurse who medicated him well and allowed him to slip away in comfort.

To say that I miss him terribly would be the understatement of the century. I keep thinking I hear his voice, or expecting him to come in from the patio where he smoked his “medicine”. Right now I have his ashes in a beautiful wooden urn resting right on the desk where he built his model airplanes and ships; I know he’d like that. I find myself over there quite often, caressing the wood and cradling it in my arms as if I were embracing him. It feels like it’s the closest I’ll ever be to him again…at least in this life.

I talk to him all the time too, just like I did when he was here. I listen for his responses and for his inimitable laughter, and sometimes I can practically hear them. I feel as though he is very close…but then I look at his empty chair and the reality of it all hits me again. I’m not married anymore. I am a widow. And I wonder what the hell life is supposed to look like now, when being married is all I’ve known for thirty-six years.

But I don’t suppose this is the time to worry about all that. No, we’ve got to get through the funeral planning, and paying for it (who knew that simple cremation and funeral arrangements were so freaking expensive?!) as well as the service itself. It’s set for the eighth, at 11 AM in our church. It’ll give us enough time to get daughter Mindy back in the States and a little breathing room, as we are all worn out and still have to carry on with life.

I remember taking a vow to love and cherish Will “until death do us part”. Nobody knows what that’s like until they go through it. There’s nothing that really prepares you for this reality.

Death sucks.





Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

4 thoughts on “Till Death Do Us Part

  1. Hi deah. Wonder what it would cost to get me from here to there just to give you that hug and that good cry you so richly deserve, have you had it yet? Love you and praying you through. xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

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