Love in the Loss

I can’t remember what I wore yesterday, what I ate or how I felt but I can remember every detail of August 9, 2020 Well wait a minute, I can remember what I wore yesterday because it was western day and my only pair of cute boot jeans were WAY too tight because apparently I have gained lots of weight since Western Day last year. So I had to take the advice of my younger co-workers and use a hair tie to fasten my jeans so I could breathe but then when I walked my overhanging tummy bounced like jello and it drove me insane! Oh yeah, I ate a salad for lunch because apparently I have gained a lot of weight this last year. And I remember now how I felt: miserable because my pants were too tight and I couldn’t breathe so I ate salad for lunch!! Okay, it looks like yesterday wasn’t a good comparison so let me start again…

I can’t remember what I wear most days, what I eat or how I feel. However, I can remember almost every detail about the day David passed away. There are so many stories I am going to share about that day because each one is unique and deserves to be told. Some are heartbreaking and some are really unexplainable unless you understand shock and grief. But the focus of this story is God’s love in the greatest loss of my life. So this one starts at the hospital.

David was taken by ambulance to the hospital so it was up to me to get there on my own. I did not call anyone at that time because I didn’t really know what to tell them, and again most people did not know he was sick. So I drove myself to the hospital, parked in the garage and walked down to the front doors of the hospital. The main building was under construction so it was quite the walk only to find out I was at the wrong building and had to drive over to the satellite emergency room. I basically walk/ran back to my car trying to get to my husband. It was like one of those nightmares where your phone doesn’t work during an emergency or you are trying to get somewhere and you never arrived when the nightmare was over.

I had just gotten off the elevator on the floor where my car was parked and my phone rang. It was the emergency room doctor asking where I was. I explained my dilemma and that I was trying to get there as fast as I could. He told me that things were dire and he would talk to me when I arrived. I honestly think this is where the shock started because I kept thinking David is fine, he just needs steroids. But there was one thought that kept creeping into the denial and filling me with fear: maybe I missed something and this was it. I didn’t really believe that but looking back I think it was my heart talking to my head and my head not wanting to hear it. My heart AND my head couldn’t fathom the conversation taking place so I did what I always do, I prayed. It wasn’t a long prayer, just a quick request from the depths of my soul.

I had finally reached my car when I started to pray. And I remember the whole thing like it was yesterday: “Lord, if this is it please don’t make me make that difficult decision. You know I can’t do it. And Lord, if this is it please don’t let him suffer.” That was all and if I’m being honest I didn’t really think it was necessary, David was going to be fine. But looking back it is what brought me peace in the days ahead.

It all happened so fast. I got to the emergency room and I was bombarded with questions: does he have a living will? Why didn’t you get everything in order? What do you mean you don’t know how bad this is? No one talked to you? I felt so attacked, like in a movie where the person is spinning while everyone is asking questions they can’t answer. Finally, after what seemed like eternity I got a nice, patient doctor that explained why this wasn’t good and he was so sorry no one had told us sooner. He explained that without paperwork they would have to put David on life support soon. And while he was explaining this, soon happened and that was that, my worst nightmare had just come true. I was going to have to make that horrible decision and it felt like David was going to suffer for it.

After I called the kids and David’s parents, the doctor was ready to talk to me again. He told me David didn’t even flinch when he was vented and explained what that meant. He showed me scans and explained each one in detail. If you have never been there, feeling like you are holding someone’s life in your hands, then you can’t understand the array of emotions that flow through you and stab your heart until there is nothing left. But I knew at that moment I had to let him go.

Miraculously all four kids were allowed to be with David and I, which was a huge endeavor in the midst of Covid and Sydney being pregnant. But God is good and people can be kind and caring. They even gave us a private room to meet and discuss that difficult decision. Except it wasn’t that difficult after all, I loved that man too much to watch him suffer. I loved him too much to hold on to his shell of a body just because it was killing me to let him go. I loved him enough to make that decision even if the kids did not agree. But this is what I love most about our beautiful, blended family: we all loved him enough to let him go. I explained to the kids what the doctor had told me and what was to come. And I told them I wanted to let him go but it would be a family decision. Harrison spoke first and said “My Dad wouldn’t want to live like this.” And the other three nodded in agreement. Looking back I know that the Lord sent the one doctor that could help us process, understand and decide. Even as the time drew near, God still sent little indications that it was time and that He had taken care of making that decision for me.

We went ahead and ate some lunch and the kids took turns going into David’s room to say goodbye. I called David’s parents, his sister and his best friend so they could say goodbye too. I put the phone to his ear each time and I believe with all my being he heard them and had peace. It was time for all of us.

I remember the nurse asking if I wanted the chaplain to come and say a prayer first and I told her that was my place, I was going to pray over my husband. And I did, I had prayed for him so much in our short time together but this was the last time and I gave it everything I had in me because he was worth it.

And then the time came and he was surrounded by the family we created together. Maybe not in birth but in love. And as I felt God answer my prayers, David did not suffer long, it was over pretty quick. God made sure of that.

When I share the story of that day I always tell this one first and foremost, how God answered my parking garage prayers, simple but powerful. And I never shed one tear telling it because it was such a beautiful blessing, God’s love in our loss. That is until now…

In my quest to heal myself with my words, I have to be brutally honest about writing this post. I have cried through the whole thing. It took two days to write because I got so emotional when I wrote the part about what I prayed. I don’t think I allowed myself to really be sad about that because I believed it would take away from the story of God’s love answering those prayers. But it doesn’t, and my sadness about that day doesn’t change the fact that God met me where I was and held me tight and gave me my heart’s desire. I think my tears are realizing that at the time I did not think I needed those prayers and now the impact of it really hit me that I did.

God gives us tears for a reason, to use as cleansing for our heart and soul. I am learning that crying and being sad doesn't mean I don’t recognize answered prayers, it doesn’t mean I am going to forget David by cleansing my heart, and it certainly doesn’t mean I have let go of my love for him. It merely means I am making room for whatever God has in store for my life. It means I am getting to the point of accepting that life will go on without David whether I want to or not, and I can embrace God’s plan. And it means I am human and I have to allow myself to hurt before I can find joy again. Some days I write to help others and some days it ends up I help myself. Either way is a win 🙂

Two short prayers were answered that day and three long years later I still thank Him and tell the story about the blessing He gave us. First and foremost when I talk about that day I start with the prayers, and how God loved us through our loss. So always try to find the rainbow in your storm, find the cleansing tears in the rain, and above all find the peace knowing God has you. Even on the worst day of your life you can find lots of answered prayers.