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During my of my years growing up and living at home, we had the same neighbors: Mike and Donna. They're actually pretty exceptional neighbors, and Donna always cut my hair before I moved away since she's a hairdresser.
Anyway, Donna was diagnosed with cancer in her intestines several months ago. Recently, it progressed to the point where she couldn't eat anything because the food could not be properly digested. The doctor gave her two choices: radiation therapy or waiting out her last days at home. After a few radiation treatments, Donna decided she couldn't handle it any longer. She chose to go home. She returned home a week ago, but her condition was so bad that she could not eat or drink. Despite the pain medications she was receiving from a Hospice nurse each day, she spent a great deal of time crying or screaming from the pain. Mike, her husband, had to care for her for the entire week that she was home, knowing that he couldn't do anything to lessen her pain.
She passed away around six-thirty this evening. Mike and her niece were with her at the end. My dad went over shortly after to offer his help. Mike and Donna don't have any relatives in the state, and their niece was only visiting to help out during Donna's last week. Donna donated her body to the University, and the gentlemen came to pick up the body shortly after her death. Mike was insistent that they not jostle her body, and he offered to help the two men carry her out to the vehicle. My dad also offered to help. Apparently, Mike barely made it out the door before collapsing and crawling to the bedroom he shared with her. My dad said he spent nearly half an hour in there on his knees, sobbing for her.
I've been to funerals where sobbing and wailing occured, but I've been able to walk out with dry eyes. However, that little snapshot of Mike's pain over the loss of his wife hit me really hard. I cried after I hung up with my mother. I'm still a bit teary-eyed at the moment. I can't even imagine how difficult this entire situation must be for him. They were inseparable from the moment I met them. They had a wonderful marriage, but never had any children. They only had each other, and they did everything together. My heart hurts for him because Jason and I have a similar relationship, and I think I would die if something happened to Jason.
I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. I'm just upset, and I needed to say something, anything.
After they left with her body, Mike told my mother that he felt lost without Donna. He also said that they might find him wandering over to their house for dinner on some nights. Of course, my mother extended an open invitation for whenever he'd like to come over. Like I said, I can only imagine how he must feel with his other half gone. He won't get her ashes returned to him for over a year because she donated her body, but when he does, he's going to take them to Delaware and scatter them at her favorite lighthouse there.
Anyway, Donna was diagnosed with cancer in her intestines several months ago. Recently, it progressed to the point where she couldn't eat anything because the food could not be properly digested. The doctor gave her two choices: radiation therapy or waiting out her last days at home. After a few radiation treatments, Donna decided she couldn't handle it any longer. She chose to go home. She returned home a week ago, but her condition was so bad that she could not eat or drink. Despite the pain medications she was receiving from a Hospice nurse each day, she spent a great deal of time crying or screaming from the pain. Mike, her husband, had to care for her for the entire week that she was home, knowing that he couldn't do anything to lessen her pain.
She passed away around six-thirty this evening. Mike and her niece were with her at the end. My dad went over shortly after to offer his help. Mike and Donna don't have any relatives in the state, and their niece was only visiting to help out during Donna's last week. Donna donated her body to the University, and the gentlemen came to pick up the body shortly after her death. Mike was insistent that they not jostle her body, and he offered to help the two men carry her out to the vehicle. My dad also offered to help. Apparently, Mike barely made it out the door before collapsing and crawling to the bedroom he shared with her. My dad said he spent nearly half an hour in there on his knees, sobbing for her.
I've been to funerals where sobbing and wailing occured, but I've been able to walk out with dry eyes. However, that little snapshot of Mike's pain over the loss of his wife hit me really hard. I cried after I hung up with my mother. I'm still a bit teary-eyed at the moment. I can't even imagine how difficult this entire situation must be for him. They were inseparable from the moment I met them. They had a wonderful marriage, but never had any children. They only had each other, and they did everything together. My heart hurts for him because Jason and I have a similar relationship, and I think I would die if something happened to Jason.
I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. I'm just upset, and I needed to say something, anything.
After they left with her body, Mike told my mother that he felt lost without Donna. He also said that they might find him wandering over to their house for dinner on some nights. Of course, my mother extended an open invitation for whenever he'd like to come over. Like I said, I can only imagine how he must feel with his other half gone. He won't get her ashes returned to him for over a year because she donated her body, but when he does, he's going to take them to Delaware and scatter them at her favorite lighthouse there.
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