Saturday, June 25, 2005

9:00 a.m.

 

A facet of grief being experienced at this time is one in which I have said very little. I feel there are a few people who can identify with what I am about to say, but very few. If a person is put in the role I had, it would be realized just why it is so difficult to work through the many tears that accompany so much sadness.

 

A caregiver is someone who is not able to understand what is happening when fulfilling the role of taking care of the person they love. You simply give up the self. The attention of others is solely upon the victim in most cases. There were people during the last two years that did know this was taking a toll upon me, but a majority of the cards received during Linda’s illness were addressed to her when it came to the concern shown. This I feel is a mistake when it comes to how others react, and I will explain why. What I am about to say is on behalf of the many caregivers who go unnoticed.

 

What few people realize is just what impact an illness is having upon the person who spends every moment of the day concerned for the welfare of the person suffering. The emotional impact is unlike anything anyone can imagine. It is a hell of hell’s, and yet it is not realized just how much until the day arrives when events takes a dramatic 360 degree turn. The day the victim dies, is a day when reality starts to set in big time. The longer you take care of someone, the longer it will take to recover emotionally from the ordeal. I have really come to see how few people really understand what it means to wear the shoes of the person who has to watch the suffering and pain of the one who is slipping away very slowly. The feelings being experienced by the caregiver are put on the backburner to be dealt with later. There are tears during the illness, but the ones which are embedded deeply may take months to surface. I am now feeling these tears that have been buried at the bottom of a very deep emotional well.

 

There is no quick fix. It’s a long process of working through the emotions buried. God does help, but He is patient in how the healing process progresses. No matter how much the caregiver wants to hurry through the healing process, it simply doesn’t happen. It is so easy for others to give advice, but the words received can’t be related to by the person grieving for the most part.

 

What has been so difficult for me during this time is remembering how much excruciating pain Linda had to endure. It was hour-after-hour of hell. I witnessed it on a daily basis. This is not stated in order to receive sympathy, but it simply ripped out my heart and life has never been the same. I truly wonder if I will ever fully recover. The memories will always be there, but perhaps I will learn to tolerate the emotional battle taking place.

 

To be able to be next to Linda just an hour before she died, with my arms wrapped gently around her 50-lb. body, is something few husband’s are honored to do. The image will be forever. I knew Linda heard me say how much I loved her because she squeezed my hand. To walk into the room an hour later and find Linda in a fetal position as a mere skeleton is something I am having a very difficult time getting out of my mind. It is very difficult to deal with the fact that this was the last image I had of her.

 

When walking to the hearse, with the body bag zipped up to Linda’s chin, is still a haunting image. The street lights gave a daunting sense of closure to such a long battle. To be able to kiss Linda on the lips before being put into the hearse was equivalent to a kiss of death. Linda’s eyes were sunken so deep and her teeth were protruding so far. Her veins were showing all throughout her face. How many husband’s are able to say a prayer with the family present before having someone so special removed from the house? As I said the prayer, Linda was so cold and stiff. Yes, she was finally free from pain, but mine was just beginning.

 

If I am to get through this ordeal, I must first face what is really bothering me. I can’t simply dwell on the positive aspects of our relationship because I am only delaying the pictures of Linda dying, which come back throughout the day. Once I am able to deal with the fact I had to see my sweetheart die as an emaciated skeleton, is the day I will start to heal.

 

I am looking to God to get through this, but He isn’t a God who hurries. He invests a lot of time in those who look to Him for help, and so I realize things will be done according to His will.

 

I have spoken to others who have experienced a similar event, and it took one individual I spoke with ten years to recover. He was a Hungarian freedom fighter in 1956 and he lost his fiancé who was only 18-years-old. He had to bury her in a hand-made wooden coffin under the suspicious eyes of occupied Russian soldiers. He had tears in his eyes as he told me his story just 5 weeks ago. He had to look at her rotting corpse until he could bury her.

 

I am doing the best I can to recover from this ordeal. I never experienced the death of someone before. To witness the slow agonizing death of Linda has been a gut-wrenching experience. I want to move on, but it is very difficult because only now am I realizing the real impact her death has had upon me.

 

I still remember how sweet she was during her illness. She was a gal who complained so little. I spent hours sitting next to her with such a helpless feeling. I remember when holding her in my arms just a few days before she died, and how I whispered in her ear how much I loved her. She was totally helpless and couldn’t move in any way. To loose someone in this manner is very difficult to deal with. I realize others have wanted to give comforting advice, but I am simply someone who doesn’t play games and try to move on unless my heart is in it.

 

I have been wiping the tears from my eyes as I write this. I once again have buried my face in my hands on my desk for a few minutes as I’ve wept. This is a period of time that was inevitable. It would happen to you if you truly loved the person you took care of. If what I have written makes you feel uncomfortable, I really don’t know what to say except I am just being genuine in how I am letting you know what this has done to me. I feel for those who have experienced what I have or are about to. I hope it hasn’t or doesn’t happen to you.