My first  beginning after Kenny left was adjustment.  The first night without him.  It was treacherous territory because it was new.  I had not been without him in my life for forty four years.  I was eighteen when we married and he had turned twenty, two weeks before.  Two kids that thought they were grown up but were  barely out of school.  We should have been getting ready for college, but we decided Sonny and Cher were right.  “I Got You Babe”.  That was all we needed, each other and thousands of dollars to take care of us and the babies that were coming up.  And so we got married and lived happily ever after?  Hardly!  There were lots of hard times ahead.  We were babies raising babies.  But we pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and by the time Kenny walked off into the sunset without me, we had raised four wonderful children into adulthood, and had nine amazing grandchildren and their wonderful mothers.  We owned and operated four successful businesses and had many other jobs besides.  We had a house, eight acres with a pond and catfish that Kenny and  all of us loved.  So life was interspersed with the good times and the hard times, but life went on as it always does, flowing like a river.

Then one day before we were ready we had to say goodbye.  Except we didn’t get to do so.  We turned to look one more time but it was too late.  He was gone and I didn’t get to see those beautiful eyes twinkle one more time with the joke he was telling me or the trick he was playing on me.  At that last moment I was bereft.  Beyond consolation.  But later as I thought about it I knew it was the best thing.  You see the last four months of Kenny’s life he couldn’t speak.  A complication from the treatments he received.  Four months without speaking, eating (he had a feeding tube) barely sleeping, and weakness from weight loss.  The list could go on.  But he was a brave and proud man and he met every day and every indignity with courage.  He never complained one time.  He allowed me to do whatever needed to be done without protest.  He kept his dignity.  Then, the day before he passed over to the other side, an uncaring, heartless physician looked at him and treated him like a piece of meat instead of a human being.  Kenny stared at me looking deeply into my eyes as he was being verbally attacked by the “doctor”, the “healer”.  He never looked away until it was time to leave the office.  One thing I have to add here in defense of loving and caring physicians, nurses and caretakers everywhere.  We have had “angels” in attendance with so many of these wonderful people that did everything  they could to help Kenny have relief and the best care they could give to him and for that we are eternally grateful.  I believe all of these good people know who they are since we don’t print names and they have my complete respect and gratitude.  Thanks to every one of you.  And I believe the one responsible for the actions above would also know who he is but would never accept responsibilty.  So be it.  Now, back to the blog.  The rest of the day there was little communication.  By the next morning he was too weak to get to the bathroom and I had to call my daughter to come over and help me get him back to bed.  When we got him to bed he turned over and went to sleep and never woke up.  His breathing seemed normal but he did not wake up.  I did two tube feedings during that day but he didn’t wake up.  He just slept and breathed.  Myself, two daughters, and Kenny’s mother kept the watch over him, doing the things around home that were needed, preparing for him to wake up.  Finally, a little before five o’clock p.m., my daughter said, “I think we should wake him up before I leave.”  So, we went in to awaken him.  I began to talk to him about waking up, but there was no response, just heavy breathing.  So I massaged his hands and arms talking to him, but nothing.  I pushed on his chest a few times beginning to wonder, and massaged his legs and bent them to get blood moving, but they actually felt a little stiff.  And still there was nothing.  Then suddenly there were three strange gasp like breaths, and then quiet.  We all stared and began to cry.  My other daughter called 911 and told them we needed help, her Dad had quit breathing.  Finally ambulance, police cars, fire trucks showed up in great numbers.  We had become a crime scene investigation because he died at home.  Not too long ago most people died at home.  Now it is a possible crime to investigate and understandably so with murders, drug overdoses, break-ins, etc.  Just another indignity perpetrated upon us.  Although, we did try hard to comfort the police that felt so guilty standing there watching us cry and sob and grieve.  Still it made everything more difficult.  Once I had a little control over myself I went back into the bedroom where he was on the bed.  It was so completely apparent that he had vacated the body.  I realized at that moment he was free of that body that had suffered so much being done to it in the last year and a half.  He was free and I was grateful.  Now he could walk and talk and sing again (he liked to sing country music when he was feeling good) he could even eat and drink I bet.  Free!  Even though we were missing him terribly already we were all so relieved for his sake.

So that was the end of that terrible day and it was the first “beginning”.  Going to bed without him in the house.  Sleeping through the night knowing he would never come home again.  By the time I got to bed I was so exhausted I actually did fall into a sound sleep for a few hours.  And then a miracle happened to me that some people will understand and some won’t.  I had a dream about Kenny.  He came to me and we were in a different setting and looked different than we do now.  He looked at me and said, “I want you to know that nothing is going to change.  Our relationship will go on as before.”  We talked for a while and then we kissed and parted.  And that is the way it has been.  Our relationship goes on.  There is no death.  Energy simply changes form.