“good bye… I love you… always and
forever.”
For the ten days I sat in that
hospital room… the machine attached to her never stopped beeping… it somehow
gave me an odd reassurance that she was still alive. This beeping became part
of my being… every change, every different sound registered immediately in my
head as normal or not. I could put my head down on the side of the bed and
close my eyes while holding her hand knowing exactly what was happening just by
the sound of the beeps. The beeps were comforting but at the same
time disheartening… sustaining her life but siphoning mine away… Every beep… a
dagger to my heart… every time…
She was confined tightly to her
hospital bed… her body was motionless… Countless tubes adorned her mouth… blood
was stained on the beautiful porcelain skin on her cheek… her long thick red
hair… once so flowing and enthralling was reduced to a tangled nest… unwashed
for days… stained in blood, sweat… and my own tears. She would have never liked
this… laying there… looking like this. She cared about her hair… her skin… how
she was perceived. She had the gentlest soul but never wanted to appear
helpless. But there she was… helpless… clinging to a fragment of life. Helpless
was a feeling I knew well… for the ten days… I could do nothing to help… I
could only watch her… and hope… for a miracle. But no matter how she looked…
she was always the most beautiful woman in the world to me… and that no matter
what was said to me, I never gave up hoping for a miracle…
I became obsessed with watching
the numbers on the monitor. They would fluctuate but never in a good way….
never in a way that would promote the slightest bit of hope. My tear stained
eyes would stare endlessly at the bags of sedation hug at the hospital bed’s
side. As they would dissipate… they too would beep… louder and louder and
louder… till a nurse would come in and hit a button…. It seemed like an
eternity for them to come in… More beeps… more daggers… more tears.
I spoke to her often… searching…
hoping… for some sign of acknowledgement. I tried to talk to her like there was
nothing wrong…. like this was some sort of temporary set back that we would
laugh about in a few weeks. I’m sure the shaking in my voice betrayed me but I
kept the façade up and kept talking to her. I told her how much I loved her.
How much I needed her. How much she changed me. I sang to her songs about love…
about loss… and about how much she meant to me. I shared stories and the
support others had shared with me… every email… every text message… every facebook
post people sent to me were read to her. I just wanted her to hear how loved
she was. She spent her entire existence not realizing how much she meant to be
people. In all honesty aside form me, her family and a few friends… she thought
the world didn’t understand her… didn’t want her… didn’t love her. I was
thinking maybe it would wake her up… to realize how much she would be missed by
so many besides me. I know that she heard them… I would see tears form in the
corner of her eyes when I read them. I know they touched her heart. I can never
thank everyone enough for that.
Over time, my hope started to
fade. I found myself in the hospital bathroom, staring in the mirror often. The
few days of no sleep aged me… the bags under my bloodshot eyes were black and
prevalent. I was desperate… I had no other choice and no other option… but to
abandon my principles and get down on my knees and pray… not for me… but for
her… and all those that loved her. I made the promises all desperate men make…
the bargains… the pledges… for her… but to no avail… there was still nothing…
no sign of recovery… no sign of hope… no sign of life… If there truly was a
god… I was forsaken long before that moment…
As I watched her in that bed, my
mind could not suppress the thought of how much she hated this. She never
wanted to burden anyone… she felt a five minute out of the way stop on the way
home from work to pick up a pizza was too much of a burden for anyone… I could
only imagine how she felt about this. If she could see the worried and sad
looks on all our friends and family… if she would know how much my heart was
being completely torn out of my chest… she would have felt guilty. She always
felt guilty… but she never was… that’s what made her truly special.
A honk would permeate the air
often… a loud, abrupt honk that would send chills down your spine… it signified
a cough… she coughed… a lot…. as the tubes bothered her throat and made her do
so. Her forehead would wrinkle in obvious discomfort when she did this… The
nurses would lie and say she isn’t in pain… but really what are they supposed
to say… that she is in terrible discomfort and pain? The nurses’ lies are
justifiable as the truth can do no good… but… despite their lies… I know what I
see… she hates this… everything about this. She just wants to be let go. She
just wants ME to let her go.
The doctors would stream in and
out of the room daily… disgusting vultures more concerned about how her organs
would be used and who would next occupy her bed rather than trying to do anything
to comfort me or save her. They had the blackest souls I ever met… they were so
eager to push me to give up… to just cut off the one person who ever made this
life worth living. She was more than my love, more than my wife… she was the
reason the sun shined in my world… the reason the birds chirped in the morning…
the reason my lips could make a smile… the reason my voice was capable of
laughing… the reason my blood was warm… and the reason I breathed. Black souls
like theirs would never understand… their darkness could never be able to
accept a soul of pure light like hers… they would never know what it was like
to love to someone like that… so I almost can’t blame them for being so
heartless. I felt sorry for them more than anything… although I would have
loved to throw them out a window out every time I was pushed to make a final
decision and give up hope.
Not that the ten days didn’t
contain any hope … there was a fleeting moment once. The nurse moved her and
her eyes opened wide. I jumped up and my tears of joy were coupled with a
cautious smile as I looked into those beautiful big brown eyes and said “hi
baby… hi baby… hi baby”. I remember feeling so happy… maybe… she would respond…
maybe… my miracle occurred… maybe… not… there was nothing… no response… no life
behind the eyes… no soul left in her… they were only opened eyes… with nothing
but emptiness. She shut them only a few seconds after she opened them… and I
would never see those beautiful brown eyes again. It was a moment I will never
forget… the moment that made me realize she wasn’t coming back… the moment all
hope was extinguished from me.
Eventually the lack of sleep and
the exhaustion of endlessly crying caught up to me… my body was broken… my mind
destroyed… my heart was missing… I had nothing left inside me. I was at wit’s
end dreading what I had to do so I became nasty… would yell at anyone who tried
to console me… would push away anyone who offered any words of hope. I could no
longer tolerate anyone… I just needed to be alone with her… so I could figure
out just why life would be worth living without her. Something to this day, a
year later, I still can’t figure out.
A few more days passed and the
doctors and nurses were getting more and more aggressive… There is only so long
they would let this continue… only so long they would house a lost cause. I was
brought inside a private room where the options were coldly laid out before me…
put tubes directly into her throat hooked up to a breathing machine… and find a
permanent care facility for her where she would spend the rest of her days
comatose in this condition till her heart gives out and she dies. The most I
could hope for was that she would open her eyes from time to time… but they
would be the same lifeless eyes that have haunted me everyday since that
fleeting moment of hope… Or… to let her go… to sign away her life… to remove
the life support… to give up on her and our life together… and let her die.
They all say you will never regret making a decision that is obviously the right
choice… but they are wrong… the right choice can be regretted every single
moment of every day. I don’t care what people tell you about how it was what
she would have wanted… the guilt of signing off on your wife’s death… giving up
on her… and on your dreams together… is a heavy burden that I still can’t
figure out how to carry.
My decision was made and there
was no turning back… I stood at the edge of her hospital bed, already
regretting my choice. The nurses left the room and pulled the curtains and shut
the doors. I would have one final moment alone with her to tell her every last
thing on my mind. I told her I loved her... that I’ll miss her… I promised her
I would never love anyone as much as I loved her and I would find a way to make
her proud of what she made me. I asked her to keep watch over me… I would need
an angel to watch out for me as living without her would no doubt let darkness
creep back into my soul and lead to careless decisions and irrational acts. I
asked for her forgiveness for all the mistakes I made with her… for all the
stupid things I did and thoughtless things that I said that caused pointless
arguments that seem so trivial now. My final words to her were simple, “when
they pull the life support… just go… do not fight it… just pass peacefully and
quickly. Your job is done here.” Through all the tubes and wires… I found my
way to her head and I kissed her one last time… the last time my lips would
ever touch hers… and said “good bye… I love you… always and forever.”
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