Monday, April 15, 2013

504.

The one-year anniversary of my beloved's departure was Easter Sunday. It was a difficult day for me emotionally, but not extremely so.

I decided it would be a good day for another visit to the hospice where he died. (I went on Christmas day too.)

Remembering how we always had enough to eat and drink while we were at hospice, I stopped on my way to do a little shopping. It wasn't much but I knew it would all be accepted and useful.

I took my time getting there, crying during the drive.

And when I got there, I cried more, in the car before getting out.

The front door was locked. Not sure why. I arrived around noon, not terribly early.

The back door (which is really the side door, in its proximity to the main entrance) is where you go to be buzzed in.

Then you walk down the corridor, past patient rooms, to sign in. I did, jostling bags and all.

A woman I used to volunteer with (for another organization) has volunteered at hospice for many years. She was working the desk when I arrived. She also worked shifts when my husband was there. We exchanged pleasantries and I gave her a thank-you card for the staff and volunteers.

A guy who was cleaning helped me find a place to put the items I'd bought.

There was already a lot of food sitting out on the table in the small dining area.

I sat to eat a slice of carrot cake, read the paper, attempt the crossword puzzle. I couldn't help but overhear the crying and conversation on the other side of the dividing fireplace. I felt sad again as I remembered our family's similar circumstance a year earlier.

It was still early in the day so at that time last year, my husband would have still been breathing. Not so much in this world but still breathing.

When I was done eating, I went into the chapel, signed the guest book, sat down to write and cry.

The stained glass window in the chapel is beautiful. Although it was overcast when I arrived, the sun began to peek and God transformed the window into a marvelous vision for me.

I stayed as long as I could.

The next day (Monday) was very sad for me. I'm not sure why. My nerves were on edge and I cried almost all day. I felt very tired and useless, like I didn't want to be here any more.

Thanks to a friend who came over to spend time and talk with me, I was able to return safely from that dark place.


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