Sometimes the known path abruptly terminates, leads to sandy shores, or wraps itself around an island’s perimeter leaving one revisiting the same place indefinitely. Cutting through bush to the opposite side simply brings one to the same circular path, possibly encountering an unwelcome obstacles in this deserted paradise.
How, why, where does one start their own trail? Choices. . .
His body lay on the bed devoid of life. She felt hollow, drained of emotion waiting for the funeral home to transport him from the intensive care room they occupied. She kept close, touching him, resting her head tenderly above his heart, almost willing life back, seeking reassurance through reciprocal touch, even a twitch, or gentle hand squeeze. Nothing. His spirit and breath were gone after 38 years of togetherness; oneness in love, purpose, values, memories, dreams, times of adversity, moments of sadness but mostly a shared life full of happiness, richly blessed in treasures of the heart and soul.
The day began early and, not welcome. Her hopes squashed, the life she loved terminating abruptly in an unbelievable way. She managed to postpone the inevitable for one day. The dreaded, unthinkable, unimaginable, biggest choice of her life came only a week earlier. She thought the previous, essential, no-choice option would wrap itself around leading them on their chosen path of dreams, paradise.
Monday, November 21, 2016 — Alan’s oxygen needs were such the doctors in ICU called me and suggested a family meeting so we gathered in a room with the specialists. Hearing that the next step in the treatment plan narrowed options to one — induced sleep to give his lungs and heart time for hopeful recovery from the internal stress shocked us. The only spark of brightness was knowing the doctors would wake him everyday. By this time, Alan had a full mask. Our youngest son and I brought the news to Alan. He was so afraid of not waking up. I told him we were trying to save his life, it was our only choice, and the doctors said they would wake him daily. From my journal; “This is very sad and hard to think about and watch. There is no other option at this point. I even watched his blood pressure drop so low 58/58.”
Tuesday, November 22– Alan wrote a note to me, talking was difficult and hard to understand with the full face mask, saying I was the most important thing to him. “It was hard to know the only option to save his life meant going on a ventilator to buy him time to heal from infection, rest his heart, lungs and body to prevent blowing out a lung or heart failure. The goal is for him to wake up and come home to us.” A bronchoscopy, once sedated, pulled lots of pneumonia out of his lungs.
Thursday, November 24 — Further testing results revealed also a viral infection, highly problematic in his fragile condition.
Friday, November 25 — One of the ICU specialists told us the medication necessary to fight this particular infection requires ordering from the United States; medical permissions and time a concern.
Sunday, November 27 — “I am so upset. did we make the right choice to have Alan in a coma? Is that what he really wanted? I was counting on them to wake him every day for a few minutes to check on him. It has been almost a week without waking him because he is so unstable unless I am in the room with him. When they move him only a little bit, he turns blue. Did he actually agree to be unconscious? I don’t want to give up. My heart is aching so bad!!!”
Tuesday, November 29 — A week in a coma; no lung function, he cannot breathe on his own if taken of the ventilator. Doctors were willing to watch and wait a couple more days but by Friday a reassessment would be made. “I am losing him to this mortal world. I am not ready for this.”
Thursday, December 1 — I wanted so much to grant Alan’s wish that began as a joke between two friends. After receiving confirmation it was possible to make a dedicated donation to a specific individual the tests began in earnest. The hope of organ donation lived in the tests for both Alan and Jim (his friend who needed a kidney) at different hospitals, giving us another day. “I got to curl up beside Alan and even fell asleep briefly.”
Friday, December 2 – The day began early and, not welcome. No chance of kidney transplant came the word from Alan’s specialist; a major disappointment for our family. I crawled up and lay my head on his chest listening and feeling his heartbeat while tears ran down my face. “I apologized for not waking him, I really thought he would wake.” Some of the children were able to be with him and I in our final earthly moments. All the children had spoken and spent time with him. It is a very difficult thing to watch a loved one leave this world, no matter what your faith or believe religiously, spiritually, intellectually – – does life continue in another sphere?
He made a few gurgling type noises, almost like when he snored, only deeper, before he went silent. It was quick after the intubation tube was removed and he was disconnected from the ventilator.
His spirit and breath were gone after 38 years of togetherness; oneness in love, purpose, values, memories, dreams, times of adversity, moments of sadness but mostly a shared life full of happiness, richly blessed in treasures of the heart and soul. Choices made in the hospital did not turn out as expected. What was I to do?
Our island, alive with richness in family life’s vegetation of happiness, love, disappointments, struggles, faith and service to others, had a path we created around the perimeter, the beach and water, keeping us feeling safe and secure in our habitat. Never did I expect to one day leave this island’s known path and comfortable, secure, happy, dream filled life to begin a voyage on my own. The path we walked for so long hand in hand would only remain in my mind and heart.
I woke up the next day and began as if he were still here, seeking his advice, wanting to please him and make him happy. Stay on the path I told myself.
No marked path, a trail to blaze. Life happens…so do choices. My voyage is not always in smooth waters, waves have crashed over my bow, battered both sides and take me where I never imagined. Sometimes wafted to and fro, caught in a whirlpool of emotions or tidal pool of despair my voyage seems doomed to simply trying to exist. Other times floating lazily along, drifting aimlessly in a current stream, relishing the peaceful relaxation by surrendering to faith and hope, knowing all will be well. Trusting I am loved, even when my strength is weak, feeble my knees and dim my sight lifts my spirit. I shall overcome and rejoice in blessings, no matter what waters I cross, sail upon or fear on my voyage.
How do you leave the path and blaze your trail that may be a path for another person one day? Perhaps your path’s end was not your choice but due to circumstances, another’s choice, through no missteps of your own.
When life changes in unexpected ways, where do you turn for help in making those trail blazing choices?
When you fall on your knees at the end of your path to hold onto what remains, where do you find the strength to rise and take a step into the unknown?
Perhaps you are forced off your path, how do you manage the emotional turmoil and survive until you can thrive?
How do you choose where, when and how to make a new path that trails your life, your legacy to the future?
This is truly from the depths of your heart! How courageous you are to share this! I was mesmerized and felt a small part of what you felt through your words. Your writing is a gift to help others.
You write so beautifully. I admire your brave spirit. Thank you for opening up your soul and letting us peek inside. Looking forward to reading more in future.
Beautifully written. Your thoughts and words do you much credit. Sending a big virtual hug to you!
Beautifully written. I can feel along with you the trials of forging a new path whilst not clear on your own identity.