A Miki Moment

It’s been less than 24 hours since Miki’s passing and the glimpse of life without her today is not very appealing.  It appears as though there will be lots of interruptions during the day that will involve Kleenex and a snot filled nose.  The dogs are doing their best to console me, but I am sure they will reach their limits, as their empathy wears down.

It’s quiet too.  Very quiet.  I don’t hear the oxygen machine pounding out O₂ in the distance. I don’t hear her walker bumping along the kitchen floor.  Nor do I hear her nebulizer humming while she gives herself a breathing treatment.  But you know what?  Those are all good things to not hear.  It means she doesn’t need them anymore.

In the months leading us hear, I had glimpses into this reality.  The hospital stays where I would come home each night to an empty house (no offense Tuck and Tooga), the periods of time she spent sleeping downstairs on the Lazy-boy seeking comfort, and the last few days where she was not present at Hospice House.  These experiences of Miki deprivation were foreshadowing what I am beginning to experience and hope it is a transition period, as my heart takes time to mend itself.

My family and friends are circling the wagons around me and that feeling of comfort and support is powerful.  Being back home is healing as well.  Being back with my dogs, doing chores, and regaining some normalcy feels good.  As I look around the house all I see is Miki.  She decorated 99% of what I see, but now that she is not here to attach meaning to it, it seems to be just decoration.  I can imagine that the look of the house will evolve over time and it will attain new meanings as I define my style in the house (with help of course!).  And one more thing, moles in the backyard, I will be getting after you next spring.  Miki did not want chemicals in her yard, being the environmentalist she is, but next spring there will be no holes barred.  I am declaring war on those little furry digging machines.  Even if I have to go Bill Murray on them, from the movie Caddyshack.

I felt this stage of my blog would end with Miki’s passing, but I am feeling after the memorial celebration would bring a bit more conclusion to this story.  So my free therapy will continue for awhile.

My Zen from Home:  I think for a while, at 10:35 each night, I will have a Miki Moment.  I will quietly picture Miki whole, healthy, and making wherever she is a better place, the way only Miki can.  I believe it’s good to do whatever floats your boat and my boat needs floatin’.  Join me if you want.