Drawing Near

The last couple of days I have noticed being a little weak in the knees.  Walking through the halls of the Hospice House to get a few minutes of exercise or out in the courtyard where the sun warmed the path.  Either from the lack of use this last week or knowing that time is drawing to a close, my knees seem to be acting as a barometer to the pressure my heart is feeling.

Miki and I have been together for the majority of our relationship. I don’t mean together in the sense we are a couple that share moments from the day at dinner together.  I mean together in the sense we started our careers in the same school, down the hall from one another.  We would ride to work together.  We would work on school stuff together, whether it was cutting out decorations for a bulletin board or grading papers in the same room at night together.  Spending summers working in the yard, traveling in close quarters on trips, or taking our pets to the vet together.  And it worked.  We had our moments, but in 32 years, those kind of moments were infinitesimal in comparison to the fact it worked…we did it together.

As Miki’s time here draws close, I have been schooled on what the nurses look for as signs that she is nearing completion here.  The science teacher in me finds it fascinating and the husband and friend in me finds it heartbreaking.  While she was still alert and even struggling to communicate, at least we were here together.  The last couple of days I have been getting a taste of the loneliness that lies ahead, as the communication faded.  And I tell myself that its normal and it will ease with time.  Without her here, it’s just me, even though I will be carrying her with me in some form, in some way, with some hope.

She continues to rest easy and without pain today, as I start to be restless and feel pain. In the confines of this haven of hospice, it has been easy to let the time leading up to the final days be masked by the support and expertise of the staff we are surrounded by.  But my knees are telling me to prepare myself as time draws near.

I’ve kept busy with friends and family, doctors and nurses, and anticipating paperwork that accompanies the end of her journey.  Miki is donating her body to the KU School of Medicine…always a teacher!  There is the transport of her body to KU, death certificates to retain, financial matters to assume or handle them on the run, while planning a memorial celebration for a life well lived.  A list will sprout of other details that haven’t been revealed quite yet, but I am well supported and as time draws near, I am not worried.

Thank you for being interested in our lives and how it has twisted and turned.  Thank you for supporting this journey in the many ways you have. Thank you for respecting the journey, our journey, Miki’s journey.  As time draws near, Mik and I will be together as we have been for 32 years.  Namaste.

From one of Miki's T-shirts.  It is on her license plate and sign on our mailbox.

My Zen from Home:  You can draw your own conclusions from anything you may have learned along the way as you have followed Miki’s journey.  You can draw upon your strength and courage, as she did, to fight whatever battles may arise in your journey.  But better yet, draw someone close to you, hug them, tell them you love them, and be prepared to go the distance with them if you do.  It’s the best and worst thing you will ever do.