I was so glad that I took brief notes of each day of the last month of my husband's life. It allows me to read them, ponder them and remember a crucial time of my life. It also helps me to grieve.
On January 24th, 2023 we were told by the doctor at St. Boniface Hospital that Darrell had stage four pancreatic cancer which had already spread to lymph nodes, stomach and bones in the pelvic area, his arm and shoulder. He spent four tortuous nights under a bright light in the emergency department. The hospital was full. He lived for 34 more days.
Each day I read the notes, I remember what happened, see each face who visited, and can even smile at the sweet moments. It has been a year.
I remember how self-conscious he was of his balding head. I loved his bald head and loved to stroke the soft hair left on top. He loved to drive, and didn't care for my driving skills, so on the last day when I was driving him to the hospital, his finger kept popping up to give me directions. I smile at that.
So on February 24th, a month later, he was gone. Fifteen beautiful years together, travelling and enjoying family and grandchildren. I celebrated what would have been our 16th anniversary at our favourite restaurant. I celebrated his 70th birthday the following year, and then my first Valentine's Day alone. Milestones.
But I feel God with me, and am reminded often of dear folks who are still praying for me. God is indeed good.
