Eggs and 'tetchup

Eggs & 'tetchup

I once had the best wife in the universe, who just happened to be one studly hunk of a man. An unbiased opinion, that, I swear. Mitch was of the "Wash, Clean, Cook? YES!" mentality that I still cannot quite understand. Happy to appreciate these skills, in my confusion, make no mistake, I'm very grateful! Especially considering Wash, Clean, Cook were happily joined by Play and Change Diapers ♥

When he fell undeniably ill, mid-October, there was no denying a shift of responsibilities was inevitable. I wasn't ready for imminent, inevitable was fine.
Mitch's mother came to visit for Thanksgiving. I prepared by asking, pleading, begging, admonishing and threatening Mitch to remain still and docile, for a few weeks, to allow his bruises to heal.  We knew they came from his Lumbering About Adventures, including walls, doorways and floors; she did not. Already, he was a scary sight post-stroke, I'll admit, and I was there every day to watch the rapidlyslow decline of his body. She was in for the shock of her life, I wanted to soften it as much as I could, with whatever energy I could muster.  (FYI - he didn't listen)

I'm honored that food was her only issue with his care. Mostly I remember she made him oatmeal, his childhood favorite, like when he was 8.  Mitch really liked it with steamed milk and thank the heavens Mitch's mother was there to provide this peek at someone who'd been a stranger for almost 25 years of my life and my husband for merely 5. These peeks were numbered, sacred and running out at alarming speed.  I make oatmeal with water, he made it with water, she found comfort in providing the milk ♥

Oh look! Eggs & 'tetchup

On his last day with his mom in town, I made breakfast. And documented it.
My kids liked Eggs & 'tetchup because their dad made it for them whenever they asked. They liked Cheese Toast because Daddy told them the very best cheese comes wrapped in individual slices & tastes great slapped on dry toast.
It was two days later when I offered the kids breakfast and they ran to Mitch's dresser. Puzzled, I followed and observed as they opened his sock drawer, I helped them rifle around until we found the (unbeknownst to me) mega-stash of Everlasting Gobstoppers.  Apparently, the breakfast of other champions named Jenner. Daily part of the lounging-in-bed-before-actually-getting-up routine. Probably followed by a trip to the kitchen with real food, before the family shower at 11:30 am.
A part of the day that was theirs alone with Dad; with routines and rhythms and scents and sounds so different than my own; different even than when I am present. I was suddenly extra sad for them, for this intimacy they'd lost and perhaps never remember. And I stopped. They'd been given the gift of a father, for the briefest of moments, who was their playmate, their champion, their sun & moon. Perhaps not to be a memory for the brain at all, but a memory designed for one's heart and soul.
And that memory is moving towards making it all worthwhile ♥ 

Prayers Answered

Chocolate IceCream for Brekky, because we can!

I remember chatting in bed that morning, the two of us whispering as I dosed his morning's medications and the children dozed nearby. The headache was bad, they were all bad since we'd stopped the steroids, we hoped for comfort from some Breakfast Morphine and a nap.
Meanwhile I was off to work at a church. Not just any church, mind you. A church filled with Believers, including a family I met when I was 8 years old. A family who's chance meeting led to my career as an ASL interpreter; a family who's faith inspired me deeply and wholly through my life.  A family who asked me how I was and anticipated an honest answer. So I gave them one: I am done, spent, empty. I cannot carry this burden one more day. So we prayed, the whole of the congregation prayed my honesttogod prayer with me: Let it end. Soon. 

I now believe Mitch might've been praying the same prayer. When I arrived home and set about his care, his headache was a reported 15 on a 1-10 scale. I began the Instant + Long Morphine + Marijuana Cycle to bring down his number. Nothing worked. I turned to light the vigil candle before the VirginMotherofGod and when I turned back 'round, Mitch's mood had shifted. "She scares me," he said again; apparently she'd been scaring him for a few days now. I wondered if she was hovering near, waiting to deliver him to the other side. I comforted him with some soothing words of her kindness and grace, of her gifts of faith and love. He seemed to buy it and fell asleep. 

When the chance came for a quick escape, even for an hour, I took it! Mitch and the kids were looked after by family & my brain needed respite for what was to come next...
I heard him when I walked into the room. My brain told the rest of my body before I could cognitively puzzle the pieces & I flew into action. The Death Rattle(tm), The Official Sound of Death Itself. Right there in our bed, our whole family's bed, just like we'd talked about. Like we'd so desperately tried to deny. Death was a'knockin' and I had to decide Hostess Protocol. Aunt Donna appeared (she's really so very good at that) and set to work right away. The hospice nurse was called and the bed cleaned and changed.  I brought out the tub for bathing, filled with warm, Satsuma scented water and a cotton washcloth, like I'd promised.
And I wanted to break, so desperately.
Humans don't break, though, even when they're willing.
I was snapped back with "If you don't do this here, they'll do it at the hospital"
Again, I was giving care, Ultimate Care to the man I promised to love, honor and cherish for all the days of his life.  I wasn't gonna run screaming on my very last chance to do just that.  (I wanted to though, I really did)
Calls were made, people streamed in and out, the children were lightheartedly entertained, laughter was heard and vigil was held.
When his last breath had once again been foiled by my arrival in the room, I snuggled with him in our bed, this one last time. I sent for the priest & asked for the children to go along for the ride. When the door closed behind them, I bent down and whispered his sweetest permission to Run Forrest, Run.
And run he did, right that very moment, to whatever was waiting for him not-here ♥
I sang to him because it felt good.

Pedro meets Mitch, Mitch meets Pedro

Missing him today as much as I knew I would on the day I promised. ♥

A Decade and a Half

After 3 days in the car and a mad dash to get our marriage license, the thing I wanted most in the world was to be spotted and photographed. Yay! Family Paparazzi caught me like this

Diana Lambert
August 18, 1995

What I really wanted was to curl up with my best friend and do all that girlie wedding stuff - crammed into 24 hours! Someone was listening! In the happiest of mix-ups, the Jenner Wedding block of rooms was in one tower with Mr & Mrs Jenner in the second tower - with Christine and Mark across the hall!! ♥ We got all funked up and watched Pulp Fiction as our bachelor parties. We smoked cigarettes in the hallway & cried. Like this

And once we found the hot-pink brothel chapel,  then I was a bride, like this

The last moment alone...

And Christine was a maid of honor, on her honor, in my dress, like this

That dress is HOT!

Someone, somewhen, slipped me some alcohol. Tis the only explanation I have for pictures like this

Me & My Daddy

Someone musta slipped some to Mitch, too, as he's dancing with his wife, like this

I swear

Which is the kind of dance he got in trouble for at Disneyland. They want you to dance like this

Now you know.

We did (our first) wedding cake, like this

And we kissed like this

A Lot! ♥