StraightAhead

My wife of 38 years died a week ago today. We’ve already had the memorial service and it was beautiful. I just heard a voice mail from her when she was in the hospital this last time after she had had two brain surgeries. She had just gotten to where she could actually use her cell phone again to call out. I know I should delete it so I never hear it again because it is so sad. Her voice was no where near what it used to be, it was very weak. She is asking for Milk of Mag because she had trouble getting the nurses to bring it. We had trouble getting most of the nurses to do anything in a timely manner. I was up there at the hospital everyday with her for over four weeks and I stayed pissed off most of the time dealing with the people that work on the floors and elsewhere. Don’t get me wrong, there were exceptions, nurses who had compassion and were really trying to do their job. The compassion is what mattered.
My wife kept getting infections and her blood pressure was fluctuating badly the whole stay. They didn’t stay on top of her platelets and blood pressure in icu, they didn’t keep it under control and I think that is why she had the blood clot that they had to go back in for.
She said to me after 4 weeks of this “please don’t make me stay here anymore”, broken heart. She decided on coming home into hospice care and lasted two nights at home before passing away. I and my kids were there. I have a broken heart because I keep seeing her cry which she did so often after the first surgery when she could no longer use her left arm or walk very well. She got a little better with the crying after a while, I don’t know why. I have a very sick feeling in the pit of my stomach too. I’m finally getting to where I can put some of these feelings into words. I miss her so much it’s impossible to say. It feels like punishment right now for offenses I have done. I was not a great husband in my own eyes now, but she always said I was. I have so many mixed emotions it is overwhelming. I’m really glad my kids are across the street. Most of the time I’m just fine but I haven’t been without her very long yet. I think it gets worse then slowly gets better. She was my little girl in that bed, not my wife, or she was both. Broken heart.