February Things I Remember

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.