One Year Ago, One Last Look

[Baylee627]

As I recounted in yesterday's post, my MIL and I kept bedside vigil all night. Brooks had a multitude of lines and tubes emerging from various veins, arteries and orifices. The muffled rhythmic pumps of air influx from his respirator was oddly comforting --it was his very lifeline--but the chimes and bells from the monitors that would alert us to a change in his condition, such as his pulse or his oxygen sats, had me on the edge of a meltdown each time they'd go off.

 

(Later, my PTSD would be attributed to these sounds. Seriously, wanna see me loose my shit, ring my doorbell).

 

Nursing staff would swoop in and reassure us all was still well after they'd checked all his lines and his vitals and stats. Family and friends started to shuffle in, and since the ICU only permitted two visitors at a time, we took turns. Brooks was comatose and made mostly non purposeful movements, but he did move his head towards you if you called his name.

 

That afternoon, I decided I'd had enough, so I bent down on the left side of him and pleaded--implored--him to please open his eyes. I could see him struggling to push his eyelids up--his face turning red and contorting in the process. But he did it!!! There were his coffee colored eyes. His pupils and glassy stare clearly indicated how medicated he was, but he was sharing eye contact with me! I held his face in my hands, I pressed my nose to his. I needed to be as close to him as possible--didn't want to miss a detail.

 

I crooned: hi, baby! Hello there! I'm so happy to see you! My precious baby and his beautiful peepers!

 

He must have garnered every last reserve of strength to pull it off because his eyes clamped back down, and he abruptly fell back onto his pillow and the next thing we heard was light snoring and his vitals gave the appearance of sleep.

 

I was flooded with gratefulness, with hope, and I felt like now all I had to do was wait for him to wake up. But he'd said his hello, that he was back by responding to me. Mom was even able to cajole me to eat my first bite of food in almost 36 hours. I ate half a bowl of cheerios in the hospital cafeteria and expressed my relief and gratitude, because Brooks would be spared this time.

 

Hindsight being what it is, I later realized he hadn't been saying hello to me, he was giving me as proper a goodbye as he could muster. He wanted to see me one last time, and he knew I'd needed to see him, as well.

 

I'll never forget this last gift to me. I'll never know what strength it took to give it.

 

Baylee

[Jen]

Oh, Baylee... <tears>

[Carey]

What a beautiful moment. What love to give him the strength to do that, the love he had for you was fierce ... I hope you can see that in this post.

[lcoxwell]

What a beautiful gift, your Brooks gave you.  Reading this, it is so easy to see the love that you two had for each other.  I am so sorry that you have lost him, and that you have to go through this pain, but I hope you can find comfort in cherished memories of him. 

[anniegirl]

He loved you very much.

 

Thank you for sharing this. I know how hard it is.

[widowat33]

Nothing to say..just ((hugs))

[Stargazer74]

I'm so sorry Baylee.  Your words convey so much love you had for Brooks, and I am glad he was able to give you one last moment of connection.  I'm sure you will hang onto that forever.  Hugs to you.

[Tweety76]

HUGS Baylee!!!!

[Gabzmom]

OMGosh - I want to reach out and hug you.  I feel so helpless that I can't offer you consolation.  Wishing you peace. 

[Guest Kamcho]

Hi Baylee,

 

I just wanted to bear witness. LH and I used to call eyes "peepers" too.