Forty eight years ago a handsome man asked if I would be his wife. A few months later, we stood in a small country church on the Big Island of Hawaii and said our vows. Of the many reasons I wanted to spend my life with him, a selfish one was that I didn’t want to spend my old age alone. Now, it seems I must adjust to a very different life than I had hoped for.
Ralph is very ill. He has been getting weaker and deteriorating for months. He’s been in the hospital twice in the past two weeks. I feel so inadequate while watching him struggle for breath, panic attacks and more. Yesterday, while holding his hand, I accepted the fact that neither I nor the doctors may be able to change the outcome. I want to shield him from the gut wrenching fears, and yet I can barely manage my own. For the time being, I remain at his side and walk with him into the night. At some point, I may have to let go of his hand – and just the thought of that terrible moment is torture.
If you have a spare moment, please send my dear husband a prayer or simply thoughts of comfort. My hope is that, in spite of his lack of any beliefs of an after life, that he may become aware of being surrounded by love. Thank you.