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This is part of a Blog I wrote 4 years ago on Myspace. And as it has been almost 5 years since Sherry passed, I thought I would share it with those who wanted to read it. I have watched the mums on this site since I joined back in April and have seen how crude and nasty people really are tho I have to say, a lot are not so. So read it and feel what you will. I for one, know that writing it helped me deal with what happened. And tho I have tried my best to move on, and I have, it still jerks at my heart strings every single day. For those who have lost someone very dear to you, you know what I'm saying. For those who have not, I can only say that, You Will one day.

 

Sunday, February 08, 2009 
A Widower's Journal of Life, Death & Retirement - Moved from Yahoo360 to MySpace
Current mood:  lonely





A Widower's Journal of Life, Death & Retirement


This journal begins 364 days after the death of my wife, Sherry. I retired 1 & 1/2 months later.



Entry for November 15, 2005 - 10:00 AM






As
I begin this Blog, I must think back and remember what was happening on
this date 1  year ago.  Sherry, my Soulmate and mate of 18 years, was
in the last stages of her cancer and was at this point, just barely
holding on to life. She could no longer move on her own, could barely
talk and 97% of the time she was awake, she was no longer in what I
called the here and now. Her breathing was very shallow and she sounded
as if she were drowning as indeed, she had no strength to either cough
up or swollow the liquid that was filling her lungs.  Though I knew
better that to do what I had done the night before, I had laid her down
for the night in her bed as that rasping sound of her breathing kept me
from getting any sleep myself. I did dose off though for a few moments
and was awaken at 4:00 AM by the sound of Sherry's breathing, or lack
thereof.  Laying down as I had put her for the night, she was drowning
in her own liquid and I rushed to her side, sat her up and moved her to
the couch so I could change her bedding and her nightgown. When her
breathing did not improve, I began to panic and finally thought to call
Hospice. The Doctor on call had me go to the "Survival Kit" that was
given to me at the start of this sad journey and give her 2 pills that
were to dry up some of the liquid in her lungs. After about 45 minutes,
her breathing improved though there was still some of the rasping and
gurgling sound. She didn't  complain as I changed her and her bedding.
Of course she was unable to being as weak as she was. And then at 5:45
AM, I did one of the most stupid things I have ever done and did not
even realize it until almost 8:00 AM. I had not had more that a couple
of hours sleep in 8 days and I was exhausted. And though I knew better
and had for years, I laid the woman I loved back down in her bed so she
could sleep. I must have dosed off again because at about 7:50 AM, I
was again awakened by Sherry's breathing only this time I thought she
was actually going to drown. I rushed to get 3 more of the pills that I
had given her earlier and forced them down her throat. When they did
not work near as fast as earlier, I came as close to panic and losing
my own self control as I ever have in my entire life. She could not
breath. She was drowning and by laying her down as I had when I knew
better, I knew that I was drowning her and I felt helpless as a baby to
do anything to stop it. I paged the on call doctor and was waiting on
his call when the good Lord must have spoken to me because I all of a
sudden remembered that I had oxygen in the other room. I have never
moved as fast as I did then to get Sherry on the oxygen. I had almost
completely calmed down not that I had some kind of relief for Sherry. I
could almost see the imeadiate relief in her breathing and in what
little manor she had left. The rasping and gurgling was still there,
but not near as bad and the fear that I knew she had been feeling had
receeded. I had not relized the fear that I had been feeling was so
great until it also started to receed. I realized that the stupid
mistake that I had made 2 times now had almost killed her. I knew that
I was dead tired and that that was what had caused me to not think and
lay her down 2 times. But even now, as back then, I can not use that as
an excuse. I knew better and did it anyway because of not thinking. I
now had her propped up, sitting on the couch. propped up because she no
longer had the strenght to sit up on her own. She rested that way until
early afternoon.

I
will close for now and return this evening with what was to take place
later in the day. I must break as I find myself still very emotional
about the events of the next 2 weeks a year ago. May God bless you and
keep you



December 26, 2005 - 9:00AM

Finishing the story I started



Well,
I didn't get back to this nearly as quickly as I had said or as I
wanted to. I did come back to this right before Thanksgiving but for
some reason, all I could do was sit here, reread my 1st entry and feel
sorta like a dumbass for not being able to go on.



Now the holidays are over and "With a Little Help From My Friends" (Beatles- Sgt. Pepper Album) and a lot of help from my kids and grandkids (14 @ last count) (when
the good Lord said to go forth and multiply, my kids took him seriously
and proceeded to populate the world single handedly Image),
I managed to have a very Merry Christmas. I missed Sherry despreatly, I
always will, but I found that I'm begining to learn how to live life
again without her passing being the foremost on my mind. A person, I
believe, is a very lucky person to find their soulmate once in their
life. So many never do. I was one of the lucky ones and I give thanks
for the time (26 years) Sherry shared life with me. I can't ask to find
or be lucky enough to find another, but I can always hope and I can
find another woman to share the remainder of my life and love with. Who
will love me as I will her. For I have alot of love to give and I love
true. So all that being said, I feel that since I started the story, I
should finish it. It was almost complete anyway. I promise to then get
on with things.



Early afternoon on the day before
she passed, my youngest daughter, Twiala, and I sat on the couch with
Sherry, talking with her, reassuring her that she had no reason to
worry about us, that she had been a wonderful wife, mother and best
friend. She and I had rode Harleys for years and the best way I could
say it was to tell her to jump on that Dresser (for the Lord would only
take her home on the best) and ride home with our blessing and love.
The last time that Twiala and I saw her actually be able to focus on us
and actually speak was then. Her eyes moved to me and she told me for
the last time "I love You" and her eyes then moved to Twiala and she
told her the same. It was the last time that I, myself heard her speak,
though later that evening when Twiala and Sherry's closest friend
bathed her for the last time, she evidently told LeAnn the same thing.
DO know
that after that, she did not speak again. That evening, Monday November
15th, it was plainly clear that her time was at hand. I called the
extended family (all of the friends that we were close to and believe
me, we have bunches) that if they were to say their goodbyes, they had
better do so that evening for she was soon to leave us. People started
to stop by at about 5:00. I had not slept since the Sunday of the
preceeding week and was about to drop and asked my closest friend to
wake me in a couple of hours cause I was pretty sure she would not last
the night. That was at 6:30 and there was about 10-12 people there so I
laid down on her bed next to the couch she was propped up on and went to
sleep with the sound of her strained breathing in my ears and mind. I
woke up at 8:00 used the restroom and went back to sleep, still so
tired that I didn't realize that it was 8:00 in the morning. They had
not woke me up. Since someone was here all night, they let me sleep. It
may have been what I needed but it pissed me off to no end later. I
rememb
er
going back to sleep with the same strained breathing in my ears so it
didn't dawn on me that it was morning until I woke again at 11:00AM.
The room was completely silent. No sound but that of Buff and Jerry out
in the front room. I didn't hear Sherry and I paniced. I damn well came
apart right then. I was afraid that she had passed while I slept. My
anger came so quickly I could not think. When I finally thought to open
my eyes and look at her, she was still in the same propped up position
as when I went to sleep. Her eyes were open and they moved to me. I
then noticed the quiet. Her breathing was damn near normal. No staining
or gurgling. When I looked into her eyes, I swear to God, I saw some of
that old redheaded spirit glint as if to say "Bout damn time you woke
up, Curt-ass." which was what she would call me when we played. I told
her that I was going to fix coffee and would be right back. When I
returned, I just sat there with her talking about what, I have no idea
but she watched me and listened. At 11:45, I told here that since she
was on oxygen, I was going to step out on the porch for a quick smoke.
At 11:50, just 5 mins., I went back to her. I only had to glance to
know that she had passed on. I yelled out, "Buff, she's gone. Buff, she
has left me. She's gone, Buff. What in the hell am I going to do? Buff,
what in the fuck am I going to do?" I don't remember calling Hospice. I
don't remember cutting strands of her beautiful long red hair. I don't
remember making arrangements for her creamation. I don't remember much
of the next 5-6 hours. It wasn't until I noticed all of our friends
here that I guess I refocused on the present. I still have some of her
hair and I have a urn with her remains on the mantel in the honored
position that she will always have until the day that I too, pass and
join her.



I wrote a memorial piece for her
service that I will download for reading. It tells of what she went
thru, of how she face the prospect of her quickly approaching death. Of
the things that I found out about her that I didn't know even after 26
years. Incredible to find that there is much more to your mate than you
knew. Even after that many years.



I do know this. Having now written about this, I feel like I have
lifted a weight from off my chest. This has helped. Christmas has
helped, friends have helped and family has helped. They all have helped
me prepare to move on. I now realize that I must rejoin the world. I
realize now that I have become lonely. That I have cut myself off from
those I love and who love me. That they have hurt just as I have. I
don't know if I've been selfish, but I have not taken them in
consideration by being so caught up in my own grief.



I
do know this. That taking care of Sherry as she died, was the single,
hardest thing I have ever done in my 52 years of living. It was also
the most rewarding thing that I have ever done or will do in my life. I
know that even though there was nothing I could to help, forestall, ease
or stop her body and mind from being literaly eaten alive, I would do
this for her again even knowing what it was also doing to me and what
was in store for the both of us. Sherry blessed me in death as she did
in life.



Thank you for reading what I have written about something that has
changed me as it happened and as I've struggled to move on. May God
bless you all.



My next entry will be about other things in my life now that I'm single, retired and lonely. OK? Ok.


December 26, 2005


Sherry's memorial piece as promised






This
is the piece that I wrote and presented at Sherry's service. I have
thought about this also. Long and hard have I thought of this. And that
is, I went to sleep that Monday evening just knowing she would not make
morning. I slept for almost 15 hours. She died 50 minutes after I
awoke. Am I being self important by saying that I really actually
believe that she waited for me to get my rest so that we could then say
our final goodbye? Am I being full of myself? Or did she really wait
for me. I believe so.







November 27, 2004,

As I stand here before all of Sherry's friends & loved ones on this
cold rainy day, I wish we were here for a much happier reason, but
unfortunately that is not the case.  As you all know, my wife, Sharon
Lynn Sims passed away on Tuesday, November 16th, at 11:50 a.m..  She
was only 49 years old.  She died of a disease that has no mercy. Sherry
died of cancer of the liver, colon, pancreas and bowels'.  And we all
know, that she was much too young to die by this devestating disease. 



All of us here knew Sherry.  I knew Sherry for almost 27 years. Some
knew her longer. Some not quite as long. Some not long at all.  But no
matter how long you may have known her, you knew she was honest,
truthful, that she hated a thief and a liar, that she would say what
she thought, that she would tell you straight and that she would treat
you as she would want to be treated until you gave her a reason not to.
You knew that once given, her friendship was true and pure.  We all
knew that when she worked, she worked hard and when she played, she
played just as hard.  In fact, we all sort of joked with her at the
benefit parties, that if she hadn't taken a tumble or fallen at least a
couple of times, then we weren't having a very good party.  We all knew
that she was a Mother Hen and that she worried over everybody.  That
she would offer a helping hand to whoever might need one.  That if she
saw you doing something that she thought unsafe, or if she thought you
needed something, or you were worried, sick, depressed or just needed
to talk, she was right there, by your side, to see how she could help. 
She worried about everybody else more than she ever did about herself. 
That is why everybody called her MOM. And MOM is how we all knew her
and how we will all remember her.  In our minds as well as in our
hearts. 



But in the last five weeks that she was alive, I learned a few more things about Sherry that I wanted to share with you. 



As far as I know, there are very few people who knew that she had been
hurting for four or five months. Through out the late spring and all
through the summer,she had evidently kept pretty quiet about it. I,
myself, had only known for about three weeks.  She went to the hospital
on the Monday after the October Hog Hollow . The hospital called for me
to come and pick her up that afternoon and wanted to talk to me.   When
I walked into her hospital room, she started crying and she told me she
was scared.  They told me, as they had already told Sherry, that she
had cancer and that it was in the late stages and that she had no more
than four months to live.  The next day, we went to the cancer
specialist and was informed that she had only one to three months to
live and that treatment would do nothing to extend that time. They
immediately sent her to the hospital to start her meds.  I picked her
up on Thursday evening to bring her home and she again cried and said
that she was scared.  That was the last time that I, myself, saw her
cry or complain or show any other emotions about her cancer.  I later
found out, that she wasn't so much scared of dying as she was of the
pain that she knew she was going to be going through.  She had watched
her mother die of cancer in March of 1985 and knew what she had in
store for her. As we drove home she told me that she needed to get her
affairs in order.  That she needed to talk to her people (her extended
family, those of us she loved so much) so that any fences that she
needed to mend, could be mended.  She also made the statement that
there would hardly be anyone at her funeral, and I told her not to be
silly, that there would be so many people there that there would be
standing room only. And indeed, we've had to move her service from our
home where we had first planed to hold it to here at Hog Hollow to
accomidate all of those who planned to attend.. The party that we had
for her a week and a half later proved that to her.  She was so happy
that she cried after everyone had left and she did not forget our
outpouring of love and friendship for her.



For the next five weeks, I watched Sherry, day-by-day, lose weight,
become weaker and weaker, lose the ability to stay in the here and now,
lose the ability to communicate with those of us around her and
finally, lose the ability to even walk or move. I watched her
frustration as she fell farther and farther into what I called
never-never land. I also laughed and cried with her when she would show
up in the here and now and could play and joke around or talk of the
past.  I watched her go from the 120 lbs. that she weighed in the
hospital to less than 75 lbs. when she died.  I watched her pain,
suffering and the indignities she indured for five weeks as her cancer
literally ate her mind and body alive.  I wittnessed  just how cruel
and evil a disease cancer is. What it does to the body and mind. And I
pray that none of us will ever have to go through what I watched Sherry
go through.  Taking care of her and helping her has been the hardest
thing I have ever done in my life. It has also been the most rewarding
thing I have ever done and  even as helpless as I

 was.I would gladly do so again.



But I must tell you this. For I am extreamly proud of her.  Sherry faced
this disease with all the courage, strength and grace that you can ever
imagine.  She never complained that first time about her plight, her
pain, her inability to communicate, her inability to walk, her
inability to take care of herself.  Not that first time did I hear her
complain. She struggled and fought for life until the very end.  She
struggled and fought to carry her own weight around the house until the
very end, even though it made more work for me.  As her cancer
progressed, she didn't understand that all the work that she thought
she was doing was making more work for me.  And I didn't tell her. I
couldn't tell her. She needed to know that she was helping. So I would
just straighten up after her. And believe me, she kept me hopping even
being as ill as she was.  She would get upset with me when I helped her
to dress or to bathe or go to the bathroom, or to eat and drink.  Even
though she needed it, she did not want help.  She wanted to do things
herself, as she had always done.



Sherry fought for every day she had left and she refused to give up to
her cancer.  Her strength, her determination, her courage and her
spirit not only impressed me, but all of those who came to see her,
including the Hospice nurses, social workers and the chaplain. 



As you all know, Sherry and I were divorced 2 1/2 years ago.  And
though divorced, she and I never stopped loving each other and were always together. It was a divorce that was a legality only. All of you
who knew us, knew that. We fooled no one, but maybe ourselves. And I, as did she for me, found that my love for her was even deeper than I had ever imagined. 
And as she was with me, I found that I was still and always, in love with her.  I
know that when she died, she was satisfied that she had taken care of
all the things that she felt she had needed to address. She had made
peace with those she felt she needed to do so with.  She and I 
reaffirmed our love for each other in those last five weeks and she
knew just how much I loved her, just as I knew how much she loved me
when she passed away. For she knew, as do I, that if any two people
were ever soul mates, those two people were Sherry and I. And I know
without doubt, that she died peacably. I know without doubt that she
was at peace with her loved ones, with me, with herself and with God. 
I thank God for that.  I also give thanks that she was a born-again
Christian.  This we had talked about many times throughout our
relationship. And we did so again in those last 5 weeks.  And I am very
thankful for that, for it has set my mind and heart at ease. 



So,I just wanted to let all of Sherry's friends and loved ones know
what I witnessed about her during the last five weeks.  I am so proud
of her, of her strength, of her courage, of her determination, of her
spirit and of her character, that I sometimes think that my heart will
burst with that pride. These traits touched all of us who wittnessed
them. And now at 49 years old, she has been taken. Now she has left us.
Now she is gone. And I hurt terribly. And I cry because of my loss of
her.  Just you all know, that I love her dearly and deeply and I always
will, that I am tremendously proud of her, her detirmination and her
spirit and that I will miss her terribly until the day I die and I go
to join her in the better place that I know she has gone to. For I will
join her and see her again, be it God's will.



May God bless her and keep her.



And may God bless us all.



And by God's grace, So mote it be.




May God bless us all.
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