My Journey to Widowhood

Our New Life

He never knew how he would wake up feeling as time passed. Some days he would wake up to a good day, and others he would wake up and not be able to walk 25 feet to the bathroom. He experienced swelling in his abdomen and legs often. Sometimes his legs were so heavy he couldn't lift them. He had multiple hospital stays, and I was always by his side either sleeping in a hard wooden chair (the hospitals do not try to make the spouse comfortable), sleeping in a waiting room, or in my car. The waiting room of a hospital is not an ideal place to sleep at night. I was stretched out across 3 chairs one night sleeping when a man came running down the hall with security guards chasing him. He tried to jump through the ICU doors, and they caught him when he landed on the floor. Another night I was sleeping, and a man was walking back and forth by me whistling. I was also brought a snack basket with some quarters in it for the vending machine, and when I woke up the whole basket was gone. I was sitting in a chair with my head laid on the table in front of me, the basket right beside my head, when someone took it. I saw that as an opportunity to spread kindness though. After that day I would purposely leave things in the waiting room. I had been told by one of the nurses that they had quite a few homeless people who would come in at night and get coffee. I learned quickly that I couldn't leave bulk items, or they would take the whole box. I bought a box of granola bars, opened it up, and sat it on the counter by the coffee pot. I watched as a woman came in and put the whole box in her bag. I began to leave things on the table like a pair of gloves, a single snack, a package of wipes. It gave me something to look forward to while we were at the hospital, and I would keep a couple of bags of items in my trunk for unexpected hospital stays. Over the years we became known at the hospital ER and ICU. It always bothered Michael when he would get a new nurse who would ask if he was an IV drug user because of his heart condition and him being so young. We believe that it was hereditary; his dad passed away on December 18, 1999, of a heart attack (Michael's heart attack was 15 years to the day of his dad's heart attack). He was 49 years old. Michael was afraid of dying alone. He spoke of his dad being alone in his bathroom when he passed. Michael graduated high school that May at Oxford Hills Comprehensive High School and moved to Texas with his mom. He spoke many times of his last trip to Maine when he had to bury his dad. He loved to tell me stories of growing up as a police sergeants' kid, tagging along on adventures. He spoke highly of a woman named Donna who helped care for him. His dad took him ice fishing, snow mobile riding, and loved to do charitable tasks like removing snow from neighbors' driveways and doing runs for the Special Olympics. He missed his dad even after all of the years that he had been gone, and that's what I had the most problem with. He had given up and was going to leave our son to grieve in the same way that he had grieved his dad for over fifteen years.