Why Didn’t I Know?

For months, you knew you were dying

Why didn’t I know?

For weeks, we were told “eventually, this cancer will kill you”, “You will die from this cancer”.

You wanted to fight for “the more”

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

“Eventually” gave me hope, always——-“not yet”

For weeks, I gathered my hope dreams and clung to every word the doctors and nurses said, that suggested in any minute way that you were getting better-“improving”- another flash of hope in my mind

I heard that word rarely-just a word heard one day, and the next day-

GONE

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

For days, your sweet, thoughtful words became fewer. I wanted to keep talking, keep living, keep ignoring the approaching storm. Stupid questions rattled you: “How are you feeling today?”  “What hurts?” “What’s wrong?” Pushing you-pushing you-urging you to rally

That elusive hope of fixing things again, kept returning for me

Prayer. Prayer. Prayer. Hope.

Let’s go back:

• to porch sitting under yellow glow
• rock waterfall sounds with silent koi weaving
• long political banter (please, no, but I yearn for experiencing that again with you now)
• waltzing with you to the sweet accordion melody in the Presidential gardens of Spain
• listening to your glorious Spanish float off of your tongue
• loving your deep kisses and daily greetings
• laughing with you as we conversed with our many pets
• loving you forever and always.

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

For one week, you played and made faces with grandson, Bennett, sitting with you on your bed. He smiled and laughed with you. Bennett was your hope, your goal – being Bennett’s “Au-dad” was everything you always wanted in this life

That day, Hope filled my air Then-encouraging words from doctor
“no evidence of cancer spreading”

One day

Wednesday

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

Thursday, you stopped communicating with us, your eyes lost and hazy
Where did you go?

We waited for hope words from your doctor

In the hallway, I get “He’s dying. I can’t fix him.”

I react. How can that be?

Yesterday, so encouraging. Did you do a new test?

How do you know?

“He’s dying”

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

Friday, you slowly departed further from us.

We waited; we questioned; we reacted; we soothed each other-loving family

No greater love from a family-for you

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

What difference would it have made had I known? We would have lived our “more” – loved more deeply.

More love, more family times, more talks, more moonlit walks, more dailies, more travelling, more love, more forever.

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

Friday, your 6-month journey with us ended, with your beloved family surrounding you

You fought; you loved; you rallied

You did all of this for Bennett and family and all of the “more”

We loved you deeply and we love you still

You knew you were dying.

Why didn’t I know?

Terry Grosvenor     June 22, 2017