Re-living Mike's final day...

Remembering and going over Mike's final day is difficult logistically and emotionally. I was there, as were many others. That's the funny thing about it - a planned event. There were no surprises expected. There was a schedule, a series of events planned and prepared for by many people. But to recall the day, things get fuzzy.

It has been almost 4 months. I was recently asked to describe our hospice experience to a woman writing  an article on caring science for an internal Kaiser newsletter. Sure, I thought, no problem...without realizing that I was going to have to re-live the day. Throughout Mike's illness we had helped others navigate the many issues that arise from newly diagnosed with ALS to living at home with a ventilator and everything in between. It occurs to me now that this final day was not about Mike - it was about the rest of us.

So as I recalled the day, as best I could, my voice cracked and the tears came. I apologized to the interviewer, assured her I was fine to recall the experience. Explained that the tears were part of the grief process in an attempt to comfort this poor woman who tripped right into my grief.

Toward the end of the interview I heard myself retelling a parts of the story, re-explaining in slightly different words but still the same story. Heard myself answer her final question with what I wanted to revisit not exactly answering her question. To her credit she thanked my for my response and asked the original question again. Looking back I see this clearly and know from reading several books on grief that people will often retell their grief story as a means of making sense of it.

When the call was completed, I cried. Cried for the pain of the day, the overwhelming sadness. There was no alternative outcome, no cure, no magical fantastical outcome - Mike was gone.