hardest day of my life

Today was officially the hardest day of my life... and I contemplated over that for a while, so my decision was thought out. Joe has progressively gotten sicker over the past week. It's hard to believe that I had a full conversation with him a week ago on the phone. I would have talked to him forever if I really thought it was the last time I'd converse with him. And I wish I could have recorded his voice, or him saying that he loved me. I hear it in my head, but it is different to hear in person.

I talked to Joe's wife yesterday and she said that he had gotten worse. He isn't really talking much, he just sleeps a lot. And I could hear the sorrow in her voice, as she lied that, "we're ok", as if trying to convince herself that it was the truth. My heart broke when her voice started to shake, as she said, "I know it won't be long. It won't be long, Autumn."

So I promised myself that no matter if I wanted to or not, I owed it to Joe to go see him one last time. It absolutely put knots in my stomach. I wanted the night at work to drag on forever, so that I wouldn't have to leave and drive up to their house. On the way up there I was shaky. I felt so nauseous that I could have pulled over and thrown up at least 5 times. But I kept taking deep breaths and listened to worship music.

When I pulled up to the driveway, I sat in my car for a good minute or so convincing myself to go in. I walked up to the house and it just felt different. Instead of the excitement and enthusiasm that usually takes over as I approach the door, it was panic and worry. I opened the door and didn't hear anyone. Then I looked over to my right; there was the hospital bed in the living room, over in the corner. And my stomach dropped. There laid a very pale, frail looking body... motionless except the rapid respirations that were going in and out of his lungs. I immediately looked away, choking back the tears. My eyes welled up and I could not be in this room alone with him. So I stood at the door, telling myself that I could walk back out; nobody had seen me. They wouldn't even know I was there. But I heard footsteps coming up the basement stairs. And I saw Jeanine. A smile wiped over her exhausted face, as she set the laundry down and came to kiss my cheek. She grabbed my hand and led me over to Joe, as I trailed behind her, afraid to come close to him. I'm sure the color drained from my face as I looked more closely at him. Where there was once muscle and meat, his bones were protruding on his legs. His rounded belly is now concave, as his skin rubbed against his ribs with every breath. She stared adoringly at him. I had a hard time keeping my eyes on him. I looked around the room like it was the first time I had been to their house, hoping that Jeanine wouldn't see the pain on my face.

After a few moments of silence, she began to tell me that the hospice nurse said that he wasn't in pain. The previous months of excruciating pain that he suffered; in his shoulders, his back, his legs and feet.... he couldn't feel it anymore. A deep sigh of relief escaped me. My jaw started to quiver as I fought back the tears. She stroked his hand as his eyes began to part, as he shifted his weight slightly in the bed. "Autumn is here, Joe! She came to see you." At first he closed his eyes, and I thought he was going to fall back asleep. But he fidgetted a little bit more in bed, and fought the sleep. His eyes parted again, and I managed to get "hi" out of my mouth. Jeanine said it again: "Joe, Autumn is here. She's standing right next to you." Slowly, he turned his head to follow my voice, as I said, "I'm right here Joe." His eyes met mine, and he tried to smile. "Hi" he said, as he reached his arm over towards me. I immediately grabbed his hand and began rubbing it between both of mine. And he didn't let go. And neither did I. Over the next hour and a half or so, he would look over at me periodically and say "hi baby," as if he wanted so badly to say more, but he was so out of breath.

Amazingly, I kept my composure the entire time. I visited with Jeanine while Joe slept, never leaving his side. I knelt on the floor over the rail on the hospital bed, constantly rubbing his hand, arm, or belly. We adjusted him from time to time, as his body kept maneuvering over onto his right side, in the corner of the bed. Ed, his brother, came in and spent some time with us. We talked about memories from the hospital, when I first took care of Joe. And they told me over and over again how thankful they were for me, and how much Joe loved me. I teared up from time to time, but I suppressed them, for I knew that once the first one trickled down my face, it was the end of me.

I didn't want to leave his side. But some more of his family came, and I felt like I was intruding on their time with him, though they insisted that I could stay as long as I wanted. I couldn't bring myself to hug him one final time, or to kiss his head. Instead, I hugged and kissed the family before I left. I knew if I spoke a single word in his direction, I would have sobbed. Right there, in front of everyone, who were already struggling to hold it together. So I just looked at him, and soaked in the last second that I would see him here on this earth.

The second I got out of the house, I felt my jaw start to quiver. I hurriedly put on my sunglasses as the tears began BURSTING out of my eyes. I sped-walked to my car and got in the driver's seat. My body began to shake as sobs escaped my chest.

The worship music continued to play as I made the drive back, crying the whole way. I prayed the whole way outloud. Sometimes expressing anger. Other times expressing adoration and thanksgiving for allowing me to be a part of this man's life. But always knowing and telling God that He is Good. And His timing is perfect; I full well believe that. Knowing Joe has forever changed me. I am a better person because he lived.






So this is your honey bun, Joe...... I'm rejoicing that you're going to Heaven; they're inheriting a comedian. I can already imagine how amazing Heaven is, and I cannot fathom how it is possible, but you're going to make it an even better place. And they're going to be so happy to have you. I rest in the fact that God is good, always. I'm going to miss you. So. Incredibly. Much. Thank you for loving me. I will forever love you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YELuKbD4nuw
This is one of the most beautiful songs (and one of my favorites). I want it played at the celebration of my life, whenever I go to be with Jesus. I'm loaning it to Joe. :-)