My Brave Warrior is at Peace…

David passed Monday night at 8:53 pm. And I feel like I died the moment he did. He went very fast and skipped most of the “crap.” They said he couldn’t skip the crap…it was inevitable with a brain tumor…but he said he would. And you know David. When he spoke in that one tone of conviction and he said he was going to do it. He did it. So, he said when it was time he would go fast and easy as possible. And he was true to his word. He skipped the seizures, the delusions, and the coma. He skipped much of the nastiness. He was David to the very end…which in itself is unheard of. But David always did like the break the rules. He was up and moving about Saturday morning and by Saturday evening he was bedridden in a hospital bed. By Sunday he wasn’t very communicative. He no longer opened his eye, spoke or moved much. Periodically you could get a nod of understanding from him when you asked him if he was cold or needed pain medication. And he would hold my hand and periodically stroke it. But that was all.

That night I knew he was getting close. I crawled in beside him on his hospital bed. Like we had done so many times before. But this time it was different. Because when he was in the hospital…he was just recovering. Just tired. But he would hold me and stroke my hair. That night I was the one who held him. Stroked his chest and soothed him. At first I was unsure if he even knew I was there…but then he tried to roll over and hold me like he always had. And he would try to reach out for me, although his arm wouldn’t cooperate. And I knew he could feel me beside him and he seemed at peace. He always said he was a peace if I was near him…and it was all I could do at that point. So I lay next to him all night. Held his hand and gave him peace.

By Monday morning he no longer was able to nod or move. He was unresponsive to my touch and was unable to even squeeze my hand. I know that even then he still knew I was there and it soothed him. You could tell by his breathing and at one point as I was talking to him…he even gave me one last smirk. I talked to him a lot that day.

At the end he took his last breath as I sat beside him…holding his hand and stroking his arm. He waited for me to get back into the room and then he went after one last big breath. He went peacefully and I knew the moment he was gone. My Brave Warrior is at peace now. His is no longer in pain and he will no longer be encumbering by a failing body.

Me? I’m no so well. I am not at peace. I feel like a part of me died when David did and that I will never feel peace or joy again. My body is hollow and I’m just going through the motions at the moment. Unable to feel like I will survive this…even for another moment.

The pain is unbearable and sometimes I feel as if the pain will drive me to insanity. And yet I’m still here. My beautiful warrior has been gone for almost three days and I’m still here. I don’t always want to be. But I am.