The Screaming Silence

We lay together in the darkness
The quiet buzzing with sound -
A soft and steady beeping
The bubbling of the oxygen pump
A soft clicking from the wound vac
And the intermittent humming of the bed.

Below my cheek the pillow is damp from my own tears
My weight is balanced on one hip, the bed rail digs into the other.
Everything hurts
My head wants to explode
The pain is unbearable.

But he lies sleeping beside me
His skin so soft under my fingertips
The tiniest of snores - a beautiful sound
The rhythmic rise and fall of his ribcage reminding me that he is still here
Still alive
Still the man I love
And I pray that he is dreaming of a place that is safe and warm
And cancer-free.

 

 

I wrote that on February 11th.  Just 2 days before we moved from the hospital to hospice.  What I wouldn't give to go back there.  It was a painful raw time, but he was still here.  We were still together.  I knew better than to pray for time - I just prayed for quality time.  I knew better than to pray for a cure - I just prayed that he wouldn't suffer.  I knew better than to ask for anything but for things to be as they were meant to be, and thankfully Brian was painfree for most if his illness.  

 

But now, my pain is unbearable - and there seems to be no end in sight.  

 

Brian - I miss you.  I hope you knew how much I love you.  I hope you knew how wonderful you were, and what a legacy you left - not just for me, but for the world.   You were smart, kind, compassionate, giving, loving, funny - you were my sun and my moon - the air that I breathed.  You brought joy, happiness, and contentment to my life, and I'm so grateful for your love.  Maybe someday all those gifts will make me smile before they make me cry.  Maybe.