When holding a hand is the only thing holding you together


be all there I have no idea who Jim Elliot is. Frankly, I was googling Ram Dass Oh well, I like this quote.

“Wherever you are, be there.”

I’ve been HERE for 9 weeks and some days, I’d give anything to be anywhere else.

On stage.

Home.

In bed.

Anywhere but in the craziness that is, walking someone home.

FYI, all whiskey does is make the here more pronounced.

That was disappointing.

Tonight, I just held her hand while she slept. Tonight was peaceful, and scary and sad all wrapped into one.

I leave in three days to go home for just two weeks. The time apart is already tugging at my heart strings.

We’ve been through so much in the last nine weeks. Words too many to count. Arguments with family members. Cleaning house both literally and emotionally. Laughter and tears. Three trips to the emergency room. Three times she almost died. Last rites, prayers, offerings, recovery, rehab, home health nurses, Breathing machines, back to the hospital and now a nursing home.

I lost my driver’s licence in the bottom of a dumpster, had my credit card lifted (got a new one) and today, I lost my cell phone somewhere between the hospital and her house.

No rock has been unturned, no words have been left unsaid.

Except Goodbye. We haven’t said that yet. Not really anyway.

Will she still be alive when I get back?

Doc says yes.

The nurses say yes.

She, is not so sure.

She’s fought the good fight.

She’s tired and wants to go home.

I can’t say as I blame her.

I’ve found myself longing for deep intelligent conversation, with anyone really about anything other than life and dying, but I haven’t the words. I’ve tried and they come out as jumbled as my insides.

There are people who’ve made the here better.

A step sister and husband who came to help.

Cousins who surprised me with their compassion and caring and physical help when needed.

A husband who took a week off just to be here with me.

Theo, the home health nurse who tried her darndest to make mom’s return home successful.

John who delivered her hospital bed and took the time to explain how everything worked, only to pick everything back up just a little over a week later and told me to “I am so sorry, hang in there kiddo.”

Cards from friends at home.

Little things really

Kindness and compassion from friends, family and strangers who aren’t afraid of the here.

It’s just enough to fill a weary heart.

So, I sit and I hold her hand while she sleeps.

It’s all I can do.

And for now, it’s enough for both of us.

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