One Year

Well here it is, one year.  He was pronounced dead by the physician on the 29th which is today, but it was on a Sunday, like yesterday.  So all day Sunday I kept remembering things like deciding to go home to be with my girls for awhile.  Like seeing Father Dean's number show up on my phone.  He had never called me before.  I was afraid he was calling to tell me that Mike had passed away, but he was calling to tell me I still had a chance to keep my promise to Mike but it would need to be soon. I remember waiting for a nurse to come to the house so I can leave.  Trying to make it up to the hospital before he died. Walking in to his hospital room where I had spent the past week watching his body just slowly decay only to find him under a warming blanket and looking almost normal (the had the blanket covering him except his face).  But also seeing who all was in the room.  There was Barb, of course, having been named as family representative.  There was Steve and his girlfriend, I was so angry with Steve for not having called me himself.  And then the woman and her child who I had never laid eyes on before in 5 years.  I still don't know who she is.
I went straight up to his bed and moved the blanket aside and put my gloved hand under his.  He loved holding my hand that way.  He said people were always touching him but I was the only one to put my hand under his so he could touch me.  I could hear them all talking in the room... the nervous laughter.... the "this is how Mike would have wanted it"..... bullshit.... it was all bullshit.  I wanted to just throat punch her to restore the quiet.  I knew how much Mike had come to despise her for writing that horrible letter to him telling him he was going to "take the guilt of not having a good relationship with his mother before she died, to his grave".  That was the last straw for Mike.  And you all probably know him, you know.... it takes a lot for him to write people off.... he wrote her off.  And here she is.  Steve walked to the other side of Mike's bed looking at me after most everyone had went outside to smoke.  I pleaded with him with my eyes more than words, asking him to take her out of the room.  I had tears streaking my face looking at him just saying "please" and he only said that he couldn't.  So I blocked them all out.  I blocked out everything except Mike.  I could tell by the monitor that his heart was almost done.  I heard the nurse ask the respiratory therapist about shutting down his ventilator.  I heard the respiratory therapist say that she can't until the physician pronounces him dead.  I heard the nurse then tell the rest of them that the doctor would be in to talk to them soon.  Barb, in her perpetual state of cluelessness took it upon herself to repeat what the nurse had said to them, to me.  Again... the urge to throat punch was almost too much to ignore.  But I refocused myself on Mike. 
I know I wrote this somewhere but I don't know if it was in these blogs.  Mike's fear of dying alone was a big one with living in the nursing home.  We had a morbid sense of humor about things sometimes.  I told him that I promise I will hold your hand until your last breathe.  He grinned and said "you missed that one".  We laughed and I tried again "I will hold your hand until your heart no longer beats".  So standing there for the hour blocking them out and replaying that promise in my mind..... I laughed.  How inappropriate is that?? It was just so absurd.... the circumstances surrounding him as I kept my promise...... I know he was already gone long before his heart stopped so I was picturing him having a bird's eye view on the whole scene.  He would have laughed with me. 
Mary "little old lady Mary" had called and asked if I would take her to the cemetery for his one year death anniversary.  Of course, I am glad to be spending time with her and remembering Mike together this way.  But I am becoming more and more certain that he really is around me all the time.  Part of me wanted to think that way because there is a huge amount of comfort in that thought.  The logic side of me says of course you want to think that way... there is a huge amount of comfort in your theory.  I've finally managed to silence the "logic" side of me.  He is still with me.  He will always be with me.  Going to the cemetery just isn't what I need to do anymore, but I'll be there with Mary in about 9 hours.