Our hospice nurses have told us Connie is transitioning and the end most likely is near and good-byes are so, so hard
DO YOU WANT to stay, I asked Connie last night as I laid on the small bed beside her and cradled her head.
“No,” she whispered.
I held her. I wanted to talk but only cried.
Hospice has said she is going into her final transition, and the end could be only days away. She no longer eats beyond a bite here and there and wants no liquids.
Her brother was here earlier this year. Her sister and our niece came last month. Our daughter is coming up from Washington tomorrow to say good-bye before she posts to her next assignment in Haiti. Our son is there almost daily now.
I think with good-byes said she will be ready to go.
So, last night….I held her. I had things to say but I couldn’t. Tears. A throat that wouldn’t allow words to get out. I just held her. Then I did what I felt I had to do. I gave her permission to die.
“I love you more than anything. You saved my life when I met you. You have given me everything you could give. You created two wonderful children, and they have created grandchildren and you have helped so many. You are loved. But if you want to go, you have my permission. You know you never really will go from me. I love you. And thank you, thank you so much for life.”
I kissed her, walked to the door and turned out the light, leaving her alone with Death, who comes to the old not as a scavenger but as a guide, a warm mist that envelopes and whispers and shepherds.
I will cry a lot in whatever time we have left to us. I knew this was coming when we started the journey. I now know what everyone left behind knows. The anticipation is intellectual. The loss is a ripping of heart and soul and no matter how much you say you are ready, you are not and that’s about all I can say today.
Rich Heiland, has been a reporter, editor, publisher/general manager at daily papers in Texas, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio and New Hampshire. He was part of a Pulitzer Prize-winning team at the Xenia Daily (OH) Daily Gazette, a National Newspaper Association Columnist of the Year. Since 1995 he has operated an international consulting, public speaking and training business specializing in customer service, general management, leadership and staff development with major corporations, organizations, and government. He also writes the blog stuffonmymind.blog. Semi-retired, he and his wife live in West Chester, PA. He can be reached at [email protected].
So sorry. Belong alone after all the care giving is really hard but time marches on. I pray for you and Connie. Love to you both!
Rich, it was hard for you to say she could pass but my experience is that on her end she experienced peace and relief ….that is a beautiful gift you gave her. We are here for you.
Amy
I used to do words for a living
..almost as a game. Slick. Fun. Easy.
I can’t find any now.
Rich,
I am thinking of you and Connie.
No matter how prepared you are, it is still a huge transition.
Regardless, you are fortunate that you both had a lovely 🥰 relationship and marriage!
Many folks never had this beautiful union. Try to remain focused on the best of your lives together, honoring the wonderful life you shared.
Best to both of you!
Cynthia Sherbin
My heart hurts for you, Connie and the kids. Your posts are helping me as I learn about Jay’s vascular dementia and we make the journey together. Doctors give 3-5 years. We are down 1. Know you and Connie are in my thoughts and prayers. Goodbyes are the hardest. Peace be with you and loving arms hold you close. ✝️💔🙏🏻
People say they know how you feel but they really don’t. I know because I heard it when Karen died. I do hurt for you my friend because I care about you and it saddens me that you & Connie are facing this. You’re both good people that it has been a blessing to know. I hope I haven’t seen the last of you. For what it’s worth you have my deepest condolences and I will pray for you both.
Rich
Thank you. Your loss and grief are shared by those of us who loved and lost someone dear to them. Hugs.
Rich, for you the journey has been one of love. She left you long ago, but never left your heart. She knows it’s time she was a great wife and mother. Her job is gone.
So sorry but love will always be there,
Sending hugs,
Nita
I am so sorry it has to be this way.
No words except all is us in Quechee who will forever remember those good days-
Blessings💕
Mr Rich, my dear friend, you and your family are in my prayers. I can’t imagine the pain of losing your beloved wife.
My heart breaks for all of you. She was a wonderful, amazing woman. I’m so very sorry.
I am so sorry. Connie has done so much for so many. I feel blessed to have called friend!! Prayers for you both.
Susan & ( Don Borah,
I lost Don to Cancer- end of
December. I didn’t know your wife
Very well.
But I do know you from Big Bend.
My heart aches for you.
I’m still very sad. My daughter, Larissa and I are grieving together!
I have been reading your journey and sharing it with my mother Verna. Our thoughts are with you, Connie, and your family.
Andi, Rich…..all your family. My family is still on the outer edge, the new space of the same path you are on now, and I deeply feel similar feels. From what I think I sense, your family is warm, close, deeply loving and supportive…the best underpinning to get through this sharply painful time. May you all walk through this pain with the support of each other, and the beautiful love of your strong, wonderful mom. My heart is with you.
Rich and Connie, I am sending you both love in these final precious moments together. We all hope for a happy, loving, long life together with our soul mate, and I have not known you long but believe you both grabbed that brass ring when you found each other. But nothing in life is free. It seems like the price you must pay for great love is almost unbearable grief when death comes to one before the other. I know your memories, and children and grandchildren, will give you comfort and eventually joy again, with time 💔💞
Sending love to all of you in this more than difficult time.
Rich…. I knew this time would come, but it’s still very painful and I feel for you. I was blessed to have Connie in my life and I’m so glad I got a chance to see her last fall. If she can still hear you; please tell her I love her and I’ll miss my “big sister”as I called her.
Nadia