The Post I Didn't Want To Make

Somewhere inside me I never thought I'd have to write this post.
David passed away Wednesday morning, January 29th, 2014.

I know people often say that someone's passing was peaceful but I'm not sure I ever fully appreciated what that might mean until now.

At 8:54 am I started to give him his next dose of pain meds (due at 9) and I noticed his breathing was a little more uneven than before. Still quiet but definitely uneven. I felt like this was different than the other times his breathing pattern changed and I cuddled up close and held him as he took his final few breaths. I found it somehow fitting that the only lights I had bothered to turn on that morning were the Christmas lights we still have hanging in our room because he asked me to leave them up.  They were perfect if there is such a thing. Truly.

He took his last breath at 9:01 and I feel so blessed to have been able to be with him.  He said all along that he hoped I would be sleeping or taking a shower or out of the house or something when he passed because he didn't want me to have to live with that memory but it will always be one of my most precious memories. Bittersweet to be certain but what a blessing to feel his pain drift away. To not have to see my love suffer any longer with the hardships the last two years have brought him, both emotional and physical, and know that he's whole again. He has a wanderlust that's been stifled by circumstance and I was genuinely excited for him to get to travel to someplace he has, in essence, been waiting to go his whole life.

Rose and I got Owen from school and he and I had a nice family moment with Dave before they came to pick him up. We don't feel we left anything unsaid. That was part of the blessing of having so long to grieve.

We spent the day surrounded by friends and family, crying, laughing, hiding in our rooms or playing video games if that's what we needed to do (esp if your name is owen... heh) I told him it's ok if he needs space, he can hide from anyone but me and so far he's not even attempting to hide from me. I don't know how I got so lucky.  Tim said that Owen is growing into the same type of gentle, spazzy man that his father was. I can't think of a more perfect description.

I feel that every post of this blog for the last 2 years has been a love letter of sorts to David. He read every post up until my last one and I read that one to him. It breaks my heart to lose my best friend but it also broke my heart to watch him suffer. Today, the 31st, is my birthday. I could sit around feeling sorry for myself, and I might do a tiny bit of that, but would rather consider this a gift. To me and to Dave, really. I'm relieved. Ya, I said the secret thing people don't want to talk about. There is relief mixed in with all the pain. There's some survivors guilt for sure but mostly I'm relieved to the point of tears that he isn't in pain every day. I kind of don't know what to do with myself because the majority of my energy revolved around taking care of him. I'll figure it out. We will honor him by finding a new normal.

There will be a service for David at the LDS chapel at 550 North Danebo in Eugene on Tuesday Feb 4th at 2:00 pm.  All are welcome. I made a choice to spend my birthday with my son instead of looking to see what the obituary deadline was and it looks as though the Obit may not run until after the service. Oops... I feel pretty terrible about it actually but since there's nothing I can do about it I'll just suck it up and spread the word in other ways.  I can only do so much and I suspect he would have wanted me to spend the day with my most favorite person in the world anyway instead of doing unfun stuff so maybe in that way I also honor him. Ya, I'm gonna go with that.