A sense of unreality.
Shock, numbness.
Anger that this could happen to such a wonderful person.
Watching the falling snow from the window in the fourth floor hallway. The bittersweet feeling of lovely snow falling on our difficult circumstances.
Not leaving the hospital for the first six days, not wanting to leave, and resenting anyone who suggested that I ought to go home and rest. Being forced to leave only because I became sick.
The times when Susannah and Camille came to the hospital to keep me company.
The strong desire to be with Hugh and to care for him and protect him. Learning how to read all the medical “machines” in his room. Knowing all his medications lined up on the row of IV lines.
Fear that I would make a mistake in making the choices for his care.
Confidence that I was strong enough to do everything that had to be done.
Pride and joy that I was the one privileged to stand by him through the very worst.
Fear of the unknown outcome.
Hope that my children would be okay while I was in the hospital with Hugh.
Numb disbelief every time the situation turned in the wrong direction.
Two brothers taking turns staying at the hospital with their father. A young woman whose 27 year old husband was in the critical care unit. Two other families waiting on their mothers. Sharing the family waiting room with them. Hearing each other’s stories. Caring for each other.
Many, many friends who came to bring comfort.
Caring Bridge posts from friends.
Sitting in the waiting room for hours on end, for three and a half weeks.
Having spa night and rubbing Hugh’s hands and feet with lotion.
Love for the nurses who cared for Hugh.
Despair at Hugh's suffering.
Deep, deep love. Loving Hugh even more. Kissing his face until my lips were salty.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Third Story: Eagles Fly
The Third Story: Eagles Fly
Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31
One of my great regrets is that I did not remember to include in Hugh's obituary that he was an Eagle Scout, a member of the Brotherhood of the Order of the Arrow, and a member of the Kappa Alpha Order. These details of Hugh's life say a lot about his character and his life and omitting them leaves his story incomplete. Perhaps it seems odd that such a little thing would trouble me, but the last month of Hugh's life and at his death, there were very few things I could do for him. After Hugh's death, telling his story was one of the things I could do and I wanted to do it well.
Like every good Eagle Scout, Hugh was always prepared. As I have rummaged through drawers and cleaned out closets, I have come across numerous labelled "kits." Hugh kept and made kits for all sorts of different things. He had the usual sewing kits, nail care kits, eye glass repair kits, assorted tool kits and a dop kit. But Hugh also made specialized kits. He had a "trial kit" which contained everything one might need at trial - paperclips, post its, page markers, labels, highlighters, pens, a stain remover pen, Tylenol, Tums and and the tiniest copy of the Federal Rules of Evidence you have ever seen. He had a "travel kit" for the car that had maps, over the counter medicines, tissues, wipes, flashlight, note pad, pen, extra reading glasses and anything else one might need on the road. Hugh had also made a "postage kit" that contained different denominations of stamps.
I spent our anniversary weekend at home and went through memorabilia and precious possessions. Among Hugh's things I found another kit. It was in one of the pockets of an old fishing vest there in a throat lozenge tin. I opened the tin expecting to find lozenges and found instead a tiny survival kit. In it there was a small bundle of waterproof matches, a ziplock back folded as small as possible and rubber banded. There were two neat little packages wrapped in tin foil. I hesitated to unwrap what Hugh had so carefully put together, but my curiosity go the best of me. In one tin foil bundle was a fishing line with a cork, sinker and hook. In the other, six aspirin in two neat rows. I wrapped everything back as neatly as possible and put it back in the tin. It is not a valuable thing. Not gold or jewelry. But it is priceless to me. It is the work of his hands, carefully put together for some expedition into the woods. A little piece of him left behind.
Hugh's scouting experience was something that he shared with us as a family and it enriched our lives. We often went camping as a family and Hugh always had the campsite organized and running smoothly. He was an expert on cooking and eating on the trail or at the campsite. Sometimes we took the girls and their friends camping on birthdays. Hugh would direct them to get the right kinds of wood to start the camp fire and show them how to start it and keep it going. We always had great meals and s'mores at night by the camp fire. Those are wonderful family memories that sustain me now. When I think of what we have lost, it is good to also think of what a wonderful husband and father we had and how fortunate we were to have him.
Recently, I met an old friend of Hugh's, Rufus Alldredge, who now practices law in Gulfport. Rufus told me that he and Hugh met through the Sierra Club in New Orleans while Hugh was in law school at Tulane. Rufus and Hugh hiked and camped part of the Appalachian Trail over one Christmas break with a small group from the Sierra Club. They had since reconnected and shared an interest in law office technology. Rufus has promised to email me with remembrances of their trip along the Appalachian trail. Hugh's camping and hiking experiences were a very happy part of his life and I am always glad to hear from people who shared those times with him. Hearing these stories is like gathering in the wheat. It is the harvest of a fruitful life.
Hugh's life brimmed with evidence of his boy scout experience. The young man in all those pictures and who earned all the badges and medals grew to be an honorable man and a good husband and father. The girls and I went to Natchez this past Saturday to visit with Hugh's family. We spent time going through Hugh's things and found more of his scouting memorabilia. Hugh's scouting experience came before I ever knew him, but I treasure these things because they represent parts of Hugh's life that were joyful and fulfilling to him and because they shaped and molded the man he became. They allow me to be close to Hugh even though he is not here physically. Even though the loss is sharp and painful, it is so much better to remember and to feel his presence in the memories.
Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31
One of my great regrets is that I did not remember to include in Hugh's obituary that he was an Eagle Scout, a member of the Brotherhood of the Order of the Arrow, and a member of the Kappa Alpha Order. These details of Hugh's life say a lot about his character and his life and omitting them leaves his story incomplete. Perhaps it seems odd that such a little thing would trouble me, but the last month of Hugh's life and at his death, there were very few things I could do for him. After Hugh's death, telling his story was one of the things I could do and I wanted to do it well.
Like every good Eagle Scout, Hugh was always prepared. As I have rummaged through drawers and cleaned out closets, I have come across numerous labelled "kits." Hugh kept and made kits for all sorts of different things. He had the usual sewing kits, nail care kits, eye glass repair kits, assorted tool kits and a dop kit. But Hugh also made specialized kits. He had a "trial kit" which contained everything one might need at trial - paperclips, post its, page markers, labels, highlighters, pens, a stain remover pen, Tylenol, Tums and and the tiniest copy of the Federal Rules of Evidence you have ever seen. He had a "travel kit" for the car that had maps, over the counter medicines, tissues, wipes, flashlight, note pad, pen, extra reading glasses and anything else one might need on the road. Hugh had also made a "postage kit" that contained different denominations of stamps.
I spent our anniversary weekend at home and went through memorabilia and precious possessions. Among Hugh's things I found another kit. It was in one of the pockets of an old fishing vest there in a throat lozenge tin. I opened the tin expecting to find lozenges and found instead a tiny survival kit. In it there was a small bundle of waterproof matches, a ziplock back folded as small as possible and rubber banded. There were two neat little packages wrapped in tin foil. I hesitated to unwrap what Hugh had so carefully put together, but my curiosity go the best of me. In one tin foil bundle was a fishing line with a cork, sinker and hook. In the other, six aspirin in two neat rows. I wrapped everything back as neatly as possible and put it back in the tin. It is not a valuable thing. Not gold or jewelry. But it is priceless to me. It is the work of his hands, carefully put together for some expedition into the woods. A little piece of him left behind.
Hugh's scouting experience was something that he shared with us as a family and it enriched our lives. We often went camping as a family and Hugh always had the campsite organized and running smoothly. He was an expert on cooking and eating on the trail or at the campsite. Sometimes we took the girls and their friends camping on birthdays. Hugh would direct them to get the right kinds of wood to start the camp fire and show them how to start it and keep it going. We always had great meals and s'mores at night by the camp fire. Those are wonderful family memories that sustain me now. When I think of what we have lost, it is good to also think of what a wonderful husband and father we had and how fortunate we were to have him.
Recently, I met an old friend of Hugh's, Rufus Alldredge, who now practices law in Gulfport. Rufus told me that he and Hugh met through the Sierra Club in New Orleans while Hugh was in law school at Tulane. Rufus and Hugh hiked and camped part of the Appalachian Trail over one Christmas break with a small group from the Sierra Club. They had since reconnected and shared an interest in law office technology. Rufus has promised to email me with remembrances of their trip along the Appalachian trail. Hugh's camping and hiking experiences were a very happy part of his life and I am always glad to hear from people who shared those times with him. Hearing these stories is like gathering in the wheat. It is the harvest of a fruitful life.
Hugh's life brimmed with evidence of his boy scout experience. The young man in all those pictures and who earned all the badges and medals grew to be an honorable man and a good husband and father. The girls and I went to Natchez this past Saturday to visit with Hugh's family. We spent time going through Hugh's things and found more of his scouting memorabilia. Hugh's scouting experience came before I ever knew him, but I treasure these things because they represent parts of Hugh's life that were joyful and fulfilling to him and because they shaped and molded the man he became. They allow me to be close to Hugh even though he is not here physically. Even though the loss is sharp and painful, it is so much better to remember and to feel his presence in the memories.
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