18 months tomorrow

[lcoxwell]

I have reached the point in my journey through widowhood, in which I no longer feel the need to count every day, every week, and every month, since my Kenneth took his final breath. Tomorrow marks a year and a half, since he has been gone, though, and I feel the need to at least acknowledge the day. Honestly, right now, I don't know how I feel about reaching the 18 month anniversary of his death. Right now, I just feel numb. (Admittedly, it could be the migraine medication that is numbing my senses, and I may very well feel differently tomorrow).

 

The last few years of his life were simultaneously the hardest, and the best, years of our marriage. When the time came, he was able to leave the world as he had always wanted. He was ready, and it was on his terms. He had been saying that he was tired of fighting and that he wanted to die for quite some time, before he died, and with increasing intensity in his voice, each and every time he said it. In fact, he pretty much had said it to anyone, who would listen.

 

In his last few days, he had the chance to speak to all of his children, one last time, right before he became too dazed and confused to hold a conversation. His last words and actions were to hug our daughter and to tell her he loved her. After the hug, he took a final drag of his cigarette, before going to bed for a nap. Some time after he had fallen asleep, he slipped into a coma, and died two days later, while lying next to me in our bed.

 

Some days, I miss him so much, I can barely breathe. Yet, when I take the time to think about it, I remember that it was what he wanted. He had hurt for so long. For so long, he had been dying a little at a time, and he was no longer the man I had married or the man he wanted to be. When I remember that he left the world happy, not suffering and in pain, and not in a hospital, then I can draw some small measure of comfort. Still, I miss him....

[widowat33]

((Lcoxwell))

Knowing he's not in pain anymore and drawing comfort from that fact does not diminish the pain felt from losing him. Thinking of you as you approach the 18 month mark.

[SoVerySad]

Sending you tight, tight hugs and love...

[lcoxwell]

I spent quite a bit of time this evening, in tears. I miss my Kenneth, and I miss having him there as a buffer between his family and me. He never would have put up with how they have treated me, since his death.

[Jen]

I thought about you yesterday, Leslie. I'm sorry I wasn't able to come and post-- I was fighting my own grief wave. The tsunami has receded a little, and now we start the long march to the next month marker. We're still here... (((((((HUGS)))))))