Christmas Day 2024
The date was 12/25/2024. Yes, Christmas Day. As a day in Florida it was remarkably average. No bright sunshine, no extreme heat or humidity and very few RV guests in the RV Park (Sunkissed) we’re living in. Our lives have changed so dramatically over the last 12-months.
Presently I’m sleeping in our bedroom and Carla, unfortunately, has taken up residence in our living room on her hospital bed, thanks to Hospice, as a result of her battle with cancer. The last 3-months have been particularly difficult for her. Her bone cancer metastasized to her liver, which controls many of the bodies motor functions. One of her doctors back then, had answered her question, as we were viewing a scan of her liver,; How Long do I have? She was not looking for a sugar-coated answer, and the Doctor realized that. He said,” quite frankly you’ll see 2025 but it’s doubtful much longer. “How difficult is is to wake up and try to wish each other a Merry Christmas under these circumstances. After all, it’s something we’ve been doing for 35-years. But, none-the-less, we say the words. Carla, at this stage, was restricted to either laying flat on her back, or with some help, laying on her side.We had barely opened a gift or two, when, as expected, the Ozdarski family called to wish us a Merry Christmas. It was a very typical phone call that the Ozdarsky’s make on birthdays as well. Carla tried very much to keep up with the conversations, but the last 3-weeks she’d been finding it easier to stay with 2-3 word sentences, today would not be any different.
After a few minutes I could see Carla was getting tired of trying to keep up with all that was being said, so we said our good-byes. I had barely hung up the phone when Carla asked if she could take a short nap, which was not uncommon. In the meantime, I busied myself by moving the small amount of gifts to under the tree and to the sides of the room to help foot traffic. Without realizing it the time had gotten to be around 3pm, but all was well, Carla was sleeping calmly. It was just then that she began to stir a little so I went over to her to help in any way I could. To my surprise she opened her eyes and for the first time in months they were bright and shiny, I could not believe how pretty and rested she looked. Within a few seconds she called me over closer. I could tell she was going to ask for something. She began to speak and immediately said how much she loved me, and I casually replied back how much I loved her too. She continued; I can see and hear all that you are doing for me and I want to thank you for all your work. Not letting me slip in a word or two, she continued. You’ve done so much for me and I appreciate it so much. You’ve even moved in next to me, thank you. I was going to interject and word or two, but she continued.
“Right now I must close my eyes, I love you, and she closed her eyes. I was concerned. It’s been months since I’ve seen her so bright eyed. And surprisingly her voice was clear and gargled as it had been for the past few weeks. And then I remembered her words; I must close my eyes. In all our 35-years, I have never heard her use those words. Her talk to me was short, organized and right to the point. I began to think again about the tone of her voice, very sharp and clear. For someone who, for 3-weeks was having difficulty describing how she felt, or wanted water,
began thinking what exactly might have just happen here. Knowing Carla, it was as though she had a discussion with, let’s say Michael the Archangel (who delivers the dead) and she ask him for just one minute to say good bye. Sounds like she might have won. Her word structure and looks gave me the impression that she had moved out of the claws of cancer for that one minute, so she could give her final gold-bye to me.
What I did not expect was that would would close her eyes this Christmas Day and never re-open them again. How emotionally hard that was to know she was in her body and all the caretakers were saying she can hear all that is going on but she is trapped in her coma.
Intensely caring for Carla, most times on my own thanks to the Hospice company I contracted with, I had so much time to think. She was working so hard to breath, making that deathly gasping sound. At times I could help her a bit Dinner w Don and Joyce MacDougall below:
but the last 2-days she just would not cooperate. In desperation, as in so many other times, I called the after-hours hospice line she told me I’d probably done all I could, and the end may be near. This was such a lousy dilemma to be in. If I truly wanted her to live, which I did, she would exist as a breathing body only. One the other hand I reluctantly felt this may be a good time to separate the time she has left with prayer, Something I’ve accepted, will not be an option in my last days.
NEW YEARS DAY 01-01-2025
One New Years Day, 7-days after her closing her eye, I awoke about 6:30 to prepare her next round of medications for 7am. She was still gasping for air, I felt so unbelievably inadequate that there was nothing could do to relieve her congestion. Within a minute or two she began stirring just a bit and breathing even harder, so I went to her to see if there might be anything I could do to help her. Then as I was holding her-then she just stopped breathing. I began praying, I have never felt so much anxiety. Holding and praying were my only options. The anxiety, guilt, and depression over what was happening was incomprehensible. I have never experienced so much anxiety and emotion ever.
May 6, 2025 Anniversary of Dennis’ death
I seem to be surrounded by death feelings. first my Mothers Birthday followed the next day with my fathers’ death. Dennis’ birthday on the 3rd followed by his death 3 days later. I could go on. Something to celebrate only to be emphasized with something enduringly sad.
Forgive me for inserting pictures of Carla that have absolutely nothing to do with the texts being presented, as I have said before, it’s my blog. These last few days have been very hard. I should be speaking to a shrink, not a blog, but the blog is much cheaper. More birthdays and deaths coming up the next 3-months.
Made an appointment for Scoots for the 9th, in 3-days. Something about dialysis. I’ll find out more then, I hope. Scoots, although just a cat, has been my soulmate these last 12-months. I just cannot have anything happen to her.
May 8, 2025
I just realized the first 3-months after Carla’s death, I was in deep remorse, which was to be expected. Now I find myself in the mist of depression. 2-weeks ago I was actually a little optimistic thinking that my “CAP” scan would come back positive for lung cancer, but that would not be the case; just a clean bill of health.
I pray each day for guidance. There is no doubt in my mind that HE has a plan and my being around is probably key for His plan to come to fruition, so I sit around and wait. Tomorrow Scoots goes to the vet for a check-up. I’m a little apprehensive, only hope she’s lost a pound or two since her last visit. Yesterday I ordered a carpet to try to make this home I’m living look more like a home than a motel room. Very much like the area rugs we had in the Suncruiser Coach back in the day, except it’s a 6×10 not 2×6.Picture to the left was taken in August 2021. Amazing how much the world can change in just 4-years.
So, I will just continue to exist, day after day, in hope of a change. Got an unexpected call from Michael 2-days ago. He has a major home improvement project he’s involved in that’s getting very pricey. After the call I remembered my thinking of His plan, so I called him back. In our previous call he did not even hint at the thought of asking for financial assistance, guess that’s what I like about Abby. She has not needed much help over the last 20-years, but it does make me feel good when I can help her a bit. With my call-back I made Mike an offer for assistance, if needed. I thought it was a good deal, no pay-back just a little assistance in 12-months come tax time, but he did not think it would be needed, we’ll see! Time to go and take a Lorazepam before I fall over the cliff.