Sunday, August 17, 2014

Household Saint

As Sam dies, he is leaving Charley and me with a legacy of love and gentleness. We are communicating and working together better than we ever have before.

Today is our 40th Wedding Anniversary.  Last night my friend (who is a respiratory therapist I got to know during Sam's many hospital visits) stayed with Sam so Charley and I could go out for our anniversary. It was such a blessing!  We went to Ravinia and saw Tony Bennet. It was a beautiful evening and we enjoyed ourselves very much.  Because we don't know anyone who is qualified to watch Sam, this wasn't a "rare" event. It was unique!  And we enjoyed it very much. I'm so glad I married someone who enjoys so many of the same things I do. 

Sam perked up and entertained his friend so well. Once again he proved he is a miracle worker. She is going through the most horrible things in her personal life and he gave her peace. They played Concert for George Harrison and shook bells and tambourines along with the music and she sang in her "atrocious" voice. (Her word, not mine). She looked so relaxed and peaceful when we came home. It was actually a startling difference. She kind of glowed. Sam is a wonder. I wish I could get her to come sit with him more often. She needs him!  Or maybe it was George...

Saturday, August 02, 2014


I wanted this to be a record of my precious Sam and his influence on my life. But the last few years have been so difficult that I really didn't have the heart to record anything. 

Now he is slowly dying and I am so afraid of life without him. I have always said that it would be better if he died first because there is no place that would take care of him.  As he declines, that becomes more and more clear.  Even Hospice has concerns about whether or not they can help in our tricky situation!

His death will mean the end of my life as I know it. I spend every minute of my life, waking or sleeping, centered around him. It is my privilege. It is all I really want to do. But he will leave a pretty huge sink hole in my life. 

Death will be the first place he has ever gone on his own, the first place I haven't checked out first to be sure it is safe. Somehow my faith doesn't help with this. I know I should believe he will be somehow better after death, but honestly, I'm not sure. 

But today is not a good day for dying. Today we managed to get out on the porch and neighbors came to visit and play music. Today he managed to communicate very clearly with me and he smiled a lot. Today was a good day. 

Ars Moriendi

My Bright Particular Star is fading

And when he finally collapses into himself
I will be trapped forever in stasis 
Around his Black Hole

Already I feel stretched to infinite thinness 
By the infinity of his dying