Darlin, I'm dying

The closer it gets to August 13, the more I think about the last couple of weeks with Randy. In mid-July we had a lot of visitors and they were all saying good-bye. At one point I told Randy I was tired of people coming to say good-bye and he said to me "Darlin, I'm dying". He knew it. I knew it and just didn't want to admit it.

We had a couple of weeks where it was just us. It was peaceful. We figured things out - improvise, adapt and overcome became our daily mantra. We had a lot of conversations in those days, and Randy told me he loved me more in that time than ever before. 

I think about Randy's last couple of days a lot. The day before, August 12, Randy's mom, brother and sister arrived. His mom and brother had never been here before. His sister's first visit was only the month before. They stayed a good part of the day, and Randy was able to visit with them. 

After they left to go to the cabin where they were staying, I tried to get Randy settled for the night. He didn't want to go to the bed, he was more comfortable in the recliner. I dozed on the loveseat next to him, and he'd tell me when he needed to sit up and lean over the table so he could breathe better, and wake me again when he was ready to sit back again. I was on high alert all night. It was a rough night, and that morning is when I knew he didn't have long, and he was going to leave me. 

It still amazes me how quickly he went downhill that day. In the morning he was able to talk, but he'd lost a lot of his mobility and was unable to help at all when I tried to move him.  It was a busy day with family here and visits from the hospice nurse and ultrasound technician.  As the day wore on, his voice became thicker and weaker, and he wasn't moving much.

Towards evening things calmed down. His siblings went for a walk and his mom was laying down. Since it was quiet, I laid down with Randy in our bed, and noticed his breathing was getting slower and raspy. He wasn't talking or moving. There were long pauses between breaths that got longer. I held him, and told him I loved him and I'd be okay as he took his last breath. It was what he wanted, just the two of us, as he left this world.

Randy's death certificate says he died at 8:19 p.m. It was actually 6:56 p.m. I had to call hospice and wait for the nurse to come out, and then wait for the funeral home to come. As Randy was being taken  out of the house, one of the attendants asked if she should cover his face. I told her no, I wanted him to be able to look at the Tennessee sky one last time. 




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