THE END OF THE JOURNEY
Those of you who know me know that 19 years ago I discovered my soul mate. Twelve years later, he married me. Now, almost seven years later, he is getting ready to depart. His time on Planet Earth is drawing to an end, and my heart is heavy with sadness and grief for someone who has made such a difference not only in my life but in those of many others, including our five sons and grandchildren.
We moved to Ohio in the winter of 2007, in an effort to trick Death. We believed that by bringing Ethan to a lower altitude, his lung illness would improve, and we would have a few more years left together. If we had stayed in Colorado, I am quite sure he would have departed much sooner. Coming to the Midwest did make a difference... at first... and it gave us time to spend with his sons and other relatives.
Last Monday I took my beloved husband to the emergency room. I could have taken him a number of times before that, when he'd asked me to call the paramedics, but I selfishly stalled for time. I knew that when the time came for him to go to the hospital, he most likely would not come home again. After four days in Intensive Care, he was moved to the floor, but his condition really is not any better.
I am experiencing the first throes of grief. At first there was numbness. Then denial, followed by a deep sadness and despair. I keep telling myself I have no right to feel these yet. He is still very much alive at this writing. Yet already I miss him... oh, how I miss him.
Floods of memories stalk me throughout the day. The remedy against falling into despair has been to keep busy. But I know I'm only able to temporarily hold back this impending wall of grief. Soon it will be too strong and will come tearing down on top of me like a dam that has burst.
Not many people in this world find that Special One like I have. Oh, some do... or think they do, at least, until they realize perhaps it wasn't what they thought. But I know Ethan is the "Love of my Life," and he will go on being so until it is time when I, too, must depart.
And when he goes, we both know it is not forever. And he isn't really going anywhere. He will still be near me. I will be able to feel his love and caring. It's simply that he will have moved into another dimension. This is not really "goodbye." It's just "farewell, my love."
BE SURE TO CHECK OUT my new column at the Denver Examiner, where you can find articles on Relationship Transition.
To place your order for Ann's new book, THROUGHOUT ALL TIME, click here.
E-mail Ann to leave a comment.