Personal Journal

Nearing the end

I'm too tired to write much.
Jean enters Hospice hopefully tomorrow. I'm claining house trying ot make things ready for her arrival.
We have lost, and there's no shame in it, as I see it.
I'm on the phone a lot with her mom, who said she's not going to come back. I don't blame her. She has the right to remember her daughter as she was last week, not this week, and I think despite her stoicism and bravery, she knows she could not see that happen to her daughter.

How fast this all happened. From wondering if I saw what was happening to knowing I was right, wahtever, it doesn't matter that I was.

I'm very mission oriented. Glad I joined the army, I always am. I know the mission: Deliver Jean lovingly to god's arms. Today I prepare her final room. Tomorrow I bring her home. And I love her between now and the end. Like nobody's business.

I cried talking to the hospice nurse today, and I had to explain to her:
I'm relieved. I made Jean two promises many months ago. I promised her that she would not die in a hospital, but would die at home with a kitty cat in her lap. And I promised her she would not die alone, that I would be there.
I was so worried I wouldn't be able to keep both of those, and now I know that I can.
I'm thankful.

I will not mourn her passing while she yet lives. I may be sad that I'm losing her from time to time. But I will not cry that she is dying. That, to me, is for others to do. I will cry for her when she's gone. For now, I must be the man who stands by her and says I love her, who remembers that she is "my Jean" no matter what else happens to her body and mind.

I love you Jean.