And my final wave goodbye…

October 20th, 2010 was the day Roger and I had our “Meet Cute” at the Corkscrew in Medina. If you don’t understand that term, I am referring to a favorite movie The Holiday when Arthur (played by Eli Wallach) explains to Iris (played by Kate Winslet) about two people meeting in the pajama department- one looking for just a top and the other looking for just the bottoms, leading to the “cute” circumstances that bring them together. Everyone that knows us knows how Roger and I met that day. He was looking for a single woman to travel with in his RV, and I was deep in discussion with the bartender about life, but raised my hand jokingly like a little girl gesturing “pick me” after hearing his question out loud to Marissa! The rest of the story has led us to here and Roger’s journey on earth has ended.

Our relationship started off with a bang. Private messages on Facebook led to texting, which started a flurry of meeting out and getting to know one another over cocktails and dinner. Eventually, our first real date where he actually picked me up at my place was for a walk in the park, followed by a Clambake at his friend’s house with a huge bonfire and shots of Jager going around. That led to an invitation to dinner at his place, and then a fairytale weekend at the log cabin on Lake Buckhorn, where we eventually would marry by the Falls.

The first month was surreal as we had so many things in common- even our Granddaughter’s were 3 months apart in age and we both loved Italy and traveling. We had actually walked down the same streets in Florence (years apart) and shared experiences, including Harry’s Bar and the Piazza della Signoria (the historical square in front of Palazzo Vecchio.)

I was at a point of enormous change in my life brought on by the great recession and I was about to enter the biggest change of all after raising my hand.

I am not going to share the entire story at the risk of being repetitive, but we married two years after we met, and we traveled around the country for ten years in three different RV’s. We started out with weekends and vacations and graduated to snowbirds spending 5 months in the Keys dating back to 2013. We did the unthinkable and sold our house and traveled full time until 2020 when we bought our cottage home in the South.

Why does any of this matter? Because when someone is on their death bed, the last thing you want to hear is regrets. Roger voiced no regrets to his daughter about their life together, nor to me upon the last days of his life. I truly believe that the day I raised my hand, I unknowingly fulfilled his dream to travel and enjoy life to the fullest. We had a good life.

Roger was diagnosed with terminal cancer on December 27th and died on January 26th. His PET scan was on January 6th and I arranged for in-home Hospice just a few days later. There was no other course of action and the Oncologist said Hospice was the right choice and keeping him comfortable was my only goal.

We never got a second chance for our Christmas “Eve” Eve dinner that we had to cancel because Roger had pneumonia. We never got a second chance to have dinner or Happy Hour with Cheryl and Dave after it had to be canceled. The Doctor gave us an approval form to get Roger a Handicap tag for his truck and we never had the chance to pick it up before he was too weak to drive. I asked him what I should do about the insurance on the truck because it would be due soon in February. I will never forget the look in his eyes when he said to me “I won’t be here in February.” I could not respond.

I was worried that he might have to go to a skilled nursing facility if he became too sick for me to handle at home alone, but he ended up needing Hospice Comfort care quickly. I wondered what would happen in six months if he outlasted the time Hospice gives you, and he only made it to 17 days on Hospice care. The last 6 days were in a facility with 24/7 care with his same team of unbelievably good nurses and skilled caretakers. I was advised on January 23rd by our Social Worker to make arrangements with the Funeral home we had chosen, and they sent someone right to our house so we could expedite the procedure quickly, as Roger was getting closer to making his exit.

I worried and I cried. I watched my husband go from weakness and fatigue to dying and death in what seemed like eternity and an instance- all at the same time. Our house went from our home to a nursing facility with essential equipment in less than 24 hours. I went from a wife to a full time nurse administering drugs to keep Roger comfortable. I never slept but a few hours at a time waking up with every one of his battles to breathe and in need of my help. And yet, there were all of the other details of life just waiting for me- like grocery shopping, paying bills, drugstore runs, laundry, and making something to eat. None of that stops just because your husband is dying and my days seemed to disappear from sun up to sun down. But to Roger, each day felt like forever. I was so alone and I was so scared. I thought he might die in the middle of the night, yet that thought was almost comforting- not to see him tortured anymore by the cancer that rapidly consumed his body.

When Roger’s Daughter and Granddaughter came, they also worried and they cried. Once our Granddaughter left, our Daughter returned alone to help ease the planning process with her Dad, and we all discussed exactly what he wanted when his life here was over. The arrangements were that I would get him through his final journey here in Florida, and then take some time to recover. The torch would then be passed to his Daughter to take charge of the arrangements for her Dad’s internment once I got his remains shipped back home to the National Cemetery in Ohio.

That time came quickly and Roger is now home as I write this. He arrived in Ohio on February 6th and the plans for his Full Honors Ceremony are completed.

There is more crying to be done, but I won’t be returning home until I am ready to celebrate. Yes, I said celebrate. I want to be surrounded by all those we started our relationship with and enjoy sharing stories, have a few laughs and talk about the good times we all had.

A celebration of a life that was once vibrant and full of adventure and excitement. A life that I agreed to when I raised my hand. A life I will not soon forget.

BUT, I need to heal and I need to move forward. I find myself living in our past daily as memories pop up on Facebook and I have numerous conversations with friends and family. The fact is, I haven’t lived a life at all since the day Roger went to the Doctor for pain in his upper chest on December 6th. I’ve lived every day to take him to appointments, to the hospital, to the Doctor visits, and eventually to take care of him 24/7. I helped get all of his affairs in order, which is painstakingly difficult with paperwork and phone calls, all while I was taking care of him, and now it continues after he is gone. No man can fully understand how difficult this process is for the Wife left behind. The husband that has everything in his name will never have to deal with his loss of identity when his wife dies. His life continues just as it was- just without her in it. My life has been thrown into turmoil because “they” don’t just remove my husband’s name from our accounts. They close the accounts and you are forced to open new ones. Luckily for me, I was able to start that process before Roger died. I now have several of my own accounts, but it took me over a month to establish my own identity and you are treated as a newbie.

Just one example: Our cable company had to remove ALL the perfectly good equipment a couple days ago, run a soft credit check on me to open my new account, and installed ALL new equipment before anything would work after I made that phone call. A husband wouldn’t have had to report any changes what so ever and would have been watching football, while I had to watch a DVD because I had no service for over 24 hours. This is reality- Life after Death if you’re a woman dealing with the loss of your husband. Reality is a bugger! I would have waited to make that initial call, but I needed to reduce my monthly bill and couldn’t make changes to our existing account without Roger. BOOM!

It is time for me to step back and let my recovery begin. I believe I am suffering from PTSD of sorts accompanied by my usual anxiety and under Doctor’s care for stomach issues.

Roger will be laid to rest on Monday and my new life will also begin that day. I will begin it alone.

I have to figure out what I will do with the rest of my life and where I will go from here. I will be doing it alone and that is not easy after living under the same roof with a husband 24/7 since the day we retired. We moved into an RV, and later our home and always together. Even when we weren’t together, we were still connected. Not to mention the loss of income that will surely sting, as many widows I know have dealt with.

This is one of the most difficult tasks of all- figuring out who I want to be and how I want to live my life for the remaining time I have left here.

The opportunities are endless, yet scary. This is “The End” of our chapter together and a new story is about to begin.