Prayers for This Week

Two entries in a week. You’d think I have all kind of free time on my hands- which is definitely not the case. I am writing to ask for prayers- lots of them. This week is proving harder than I anticipated. You see, it was a year ago this week that Bill had his last surgery. For a million different reasons this week last year was difficult: the fear and the uncertainty swirling around us for the second year in row; trying to remain hopeful, but also trying to be realistic; having to be away from the girls- away from sweet Leah on her birthday.

I know it’s not healthy, but I keep going over that week in my mind. Trying to remember where we were at what time, what we talked about, what we did. Trying to hold on to any piece that I can remember.  My mind keeps going back to what I think is the night before Bill went into the hospital. In some ways I will cherish that night more than any other. We were staying in a hotel outside of Boston, and we had, I guess what you could call, our last date. There was a restaurant attached to the hotel, so I wheeled him down and we had dinner together. Of course, hanging over our heads was the tension and emotions of what we were heading into, but we were together. Just the two of us. Something that had become so very rare over the course of the last two years of his life. I wish I could go back to that moment and just hold on to it. Just to be near him. In his presence.

After dinner we went back to the room and it occurred to me that it was the first night he and I had been able to share the same bed for almost 18 months. It’s such a little thing when life is normal. To be able to sleep in the same bed with your husband. But for me, it was something that I had been waiting for since the end of the previous summer. After he was diagnosed the second time, Bill spent most of the nights on the sofa because he was so uncomfortable. And then once radiation started, we stayed in a room that had two single beds. Sure, I might have hopped in his bed a few times to try to massage a cramp or something he was having, but it wasn’t even remotely the same. Even when he came home for those few months in the summer and he slept on the sectional, I would often join him and sleep perpendicular to the way he was laying just so I could be close to him (and to be able to get up easily to get him anything he might need in the middle of the night since it was  much easier for me to do it than it was for him to transfer to his wheelchair and maneuver through the house to get it for himself), but again,  it wasn’t even close to the same.

After Bill and I got married, we developed one of my favorite habits as a couple. Almost every night we’d fall asleep holding hands. We held hands a lot, but falling asleep holding his hand was one of my favorite things about “us.” So this night -this last night that we got to fall asleep together, is one that I will treasure with thankfulness, but also heavy heartedness for the rest of my life. Because the next time I would be able to get into the same bed with my amazing, handsome, strong, beautiful husband, was also the last time. The nurse, knowing that Bill probably wouldn’t get better, snuck me into the bed and let me stay there almost all day. He probably didn’t know I was there because he was in a medically induced coma, but I got to be close to him and that’s all I wanted.

Over this next week, if you could pray for me.  The girls have no idea what this week is, and I’d like to keep it that way. What I want to do is to focus on our precious Leah who will be turning 7 on Thursday. I want her to feel all the love she can on her big day. Instead of focusing on December 10^th of last year, I want to try my best to focus on December 10^th of 2008. The day Bill and I nervously and anxiously awaited our second and last (or so we thought!) precious daughter into the world. I know my heart will continue to struggle inwardly about it all, but outwardly, I am really praying that I can keep myself together. The girls have seen me cry enough as it is. I don’t want Leah’s birthday overshadowed by all the emotions spinning around in my head. Bill would want her to have a fun-filled day, and that’s what I am going to try hard to give her. Thanks, friends.

Doting Daddy with his sweet Leah