January 22, 2021:
My sweetie used to listen to podcasts or books on tape or music when he went to bed... I no longer put his headphones in but I still occasionally play music hoping he hears it and enjoys it while he sleeps. It was Christmas tunes during the holidays and it’s usually uplifting faith music, or one of his favorite bands like Gaelic Storm, but last night I put on some good ol 80’s rock... can’t go wrong! Love him so much.
January 24, 2021:
He’s in front of me, sleeping nearly all the time. I feel so grateful and honored to be able to care for him, love on him, hold his hand, rub his head, talk to him. But I have to admit that this lengthy stage is an extremely difficult space to be in. Most of the time I talk to him with no response... but I’ll take his eyes glazed over just staring at me, I’ll take it as long as I can get it. There’s emptiness that feels so heavy. Our reality for a long time now is that my sweet hubby doesn’t really know or understand what’s going on in our life anymore and isn’t aware of his own state/prognosis... it’s a crazy hard thing to comprehend and is too much to process and handle at times. There’s really no amount of support, shared experiences from other wives, even past conversations between Ed and I, and our boys that can prepare your heart and mind for what’s right in front of you near the end. Nothing, nothing can prepare you to see your love, or your dad, go through this. It feels very very cruel and very very sad. I know Ed would be terribly sad for us too if he knew the heartache his precious family was going through as we watch him sleep and struggle to converse. I miss his laugh, his cheesy funny jokes, his hugs, his compliments, his annoyances, his companionship, his mobility, his big smile, his concerns, everything. As I watch him peacefully rest, I miss him terribly. I love him so much.