Today’s KLOVE verse of the day: (Very appropriate for me today)
There is a
time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.
~ Ecclesiastes 3:4
September 19, 2011 (2 years ago today) was the worst day of
my life. It was the day of struggle
between life and death for my Rob. By
the time Rob died at 4:13 a.m. on the 20th, I knew and had peace that
death was the most merciful thing for him.
It was the 19th - while watching the struggle between life
and death - that was the most horrible.
Time was both SO relevant and so NOT relevant that day.
Nothing mattered except being with him every second.
But everything mattered as the seconds ticked on and on
while I watched his body go through the very efficient process of shutting down.
I remember the doctors telling me early on that if he didn’t
wake up by a certain time – that he probably would not. I remember looking at the clock, wanting to
grab it off of the wall, and slam it to the floor when the hands ticked past
that hour and he was not awake.
I was still by myself with Rob then. I had purposely not called in anyone yet
(except my sister who was at my house with my children). We were still in the ER waiting for him to be
stable enough to even be moved to ICU.
It was just Rob and me – with no one watching except my God. I had wanted that time for just us – because
in my gut, I knew he was dying when we first found him unconscious. Although he was unconscious, I took those couple of hours to tell him
everything I needed to tell him even as I continued to beg him to come back to
us. And I told him he did NOT have my
permission to die. I am so glad I took
that time with just my Rob and my God. I
needed it for the day to come as I called others in and shared him with all of
those who loved him. And I’ve needed
those hours with him in my memory as time has continued to move on.
I am thankful that God was the One to orchestrate the events
of that day. He made possible so many
things that benefitted Rob, my children, and me. I am thankful that Rob (according to all of the tests) never felt any pain even though our
pain was only growing. I am thankful for
everyone who helped me in any way that day.
I’m sure I will leave someone out if I try to list them all so I will
not try that right now. But I do want to
say thank you to my sister, Joan, who came as fast as possible to be with my
children. Thank you to Jimmy Wooten,
Rob’s minister friend who stayed until the very end. There are so many more to thank – we had such
a parade of friends of family who helped sustain us that day. To all of you, I thank you. And I will, for as long as my mind works, be
thankful for and will never forget my Sally Ann. My sister-in-law, Sally Caviness, is an ICU
nurse. That day, she was my lifeline to
sanity. She stayed by my side from the
moment she arrived around 10 a.m. to the moment Rob died the next morning,
explaining – through her tears and mine - everything that was happening along
the way. There is nothing that prepares
a person to watch a husband die. But
Sally was God’s buffer for me to absorb it.
She tells me she has never been the same since. I’ve heard that from a lot of people about
that day.
It was a horrible reality - that day. But
it was also a day of being surrounded by the love of all those coming to see
him and us (which was at least 60 or more over the 24 hour period). It was also a day of God’s love spread
throughout that waiting room and into his ICU room.
God’s presence was palpable. And nourishing to my soul.
I was reminded of how Rob would start most of his church
services:
“God is good – all the time.
All the time – God is good.”
Even on the most horrible day of my life.
I’m in a much better place now. In a place of healing. And it feels good to feel good again.
But that September day will always be with me. There are still some days when all I know to pray is for Strength, Mercy, and Grace. But, over the last 2 years, the following has never failed to be true:
"God is good – all the time.
All the time – God is good!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What I wrote last year on September 19, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The Struggle Between Life and Death
September 19, 2011
The day my Rob's life on earth hung between the balance of life and death.
It's such a very thin line...
...something I never really understood until that day.
The day of struggle.
The struggle Rob's body was making to recover from whatever made him unconscious.
The struggle my mind was making to start accepting what I just knew was coming.
The struggle to tell his children that their daddy was not coming home from the hospital this time.
The struggle to call his parents and tell them that another son was dying.
(Rob's brother, Eric - at almost 21 yrs. old - died in 1985).
The struggle to execute decisions that had already been made but I had to authorize.
They will remain only shared with those in them, but I took 7 pictures that day.
I knew I would need to see them later. And I have.
Around 12 hours after we first arrived at the hospital, I took one picture of Rob by himself. He was hooked up to a ventilator by the time I took the picture so wires and tubes are everywhere.
I took one of Anna and Rob. Anna's head is snuggled up to her daddy's side and over his hand.
She was crying.
I took three of the boys as they kissed, hugged, and told their daddy good-bye and how much they loved him.
I took one of Crystol as she, through her tears, kissed her daddy.
And the last picture I have of my Rob alive is around 8:30 p.m. on September 19, 2011. It is a photo of my Rob with both of his daughters - Anna on one side, Crystol on the other.
Each daughter is holding one of his hands.
Those photos have helped me to comprehend and confirm over and over and over that we did all we could do. Those photos have helped me over and over and over know that my Rob was tired. Those photos have helped me over and over and over know that Rob fought as hard as he could to overcome all of the issues and that the doctors, nurses, and his family and friends did all they could to help him fight. Those photos have helped me over and over and over know that he had fought all he could fight and for Rob,
his race was truly finished.
Those photos have helped me over and over and over KNOW
that for Rob,
death was the most merciful thing that could have happened.
For those of us being left behind, it did not feel merciful,
but for Rob by that point,
it was.
Over and over and over that day, I prayed for
STRENGTH, MERCY, and GRACE.
At times, all I could do was quietly whisper the words,
"strength, mercy, and grace."
And here we are, a year later.
Proof that the prayer was answered.
We made it through and we are still making it.
But there are still times when the struggle knocks me to my knees...
and all I can do is quietly whisper the words,
"strength, mercy, and grace."
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