Do I have regrets?
Are there things I would change?
I’ve always said “no” to these questions. The life Bruce and I shared was a good one… In fact, I thought it was going to be a happily-ever-after one. We had each spent so long without love that when we found each other, we both knew just how precious the love between us really was.
Each moment we could spend together, we did. We went to bed together and woke up together. We ate together, watched TV together, read books together, spent out days off together… You get the picture – “together” was our word.
Of course, we had our disagreements… who doesn’t? But it never stopped our love… We didn’t use our love as a weapon to hurt the other or our arguments as a reason to deny our love to each other. (Personally, I think we had both had enough of that in our first marriages.)
So… no… I do not have any regrets on how we lived our lives together.
But… do I have regrets and are there things I would change? Well, you already know I have written about my guilt for not being able to save Bruce the night he died. I think that will always be a struggle for me, (but I am working on it.)
However, there is another part of the story that I haven’t shared with very many people… Mainly because it is my regret… Yet… at the same time, I don’t know if I would actually do anything different. This thing… I do believe it was the right thing to do, but sometimes, the right thing can be the hardest thing to do.
The night Bruce died was awful… That experience was a horrific trauma that I think I will relive over and over until the day I die, too.
The night he died, I called 911 and performed CPR until EMS arrived. (At the time, it felt like forever, but it was probably only about five minutes or so.) When they arrived, they took over the compressions, inserted a tube/bag to help him breathe, and hooked him up to a portable monitor to watch for a heartbeat… A heartbeat that never came. Instead, that line on the monitor remained flat.
They tried all kinds of rescue attempts… shots to his heart… the paddles… I couldn’t even begin to tell you everything (mainly because I was in too much shock at the time to remember). What I do remember, though, is that no matter what they tried, that line never moved… I stood there and watched in absolute shock and disbelief… How could this be real??
Eventually, they stopped everything except the breathing apparatus, loaded him on a gurney, and took him outside to the waiting ambulance… Then, they sat there… waiting… We were all waiting for a policeman to arrive and drive me to the hospital, because I was barely functional. I can’t say how long all of this took… For me, time had stopped… Life had stopped.
We all knew what no one was saying… Bruce was gone… Or was he? I don’t know… I do know miracles happen. Yet for me that night, there were two thoughts racing through my mind:
1. It had been a long time since I had prayed for a miracle. In fact, I had stopped praying for miracles in the chaos of my first marriage, since God didn’t seem to be listening.
And
2. What if I did pray? What if God did listen? Bruce had been like this for a long time… What kind of life would he have after something like this? “Not one he would like,” I thought. He would hate a life like that… A life of dependence on others for every part of his care.
So, what did I pray?
Well… I remember telling God I was scared… I told him I wanted Bruce alive and with me more than anything… Then, I told God that if Bruce couldn’t live a life where he was able to take care of himself – a life of independence… a life he could enjoy… Then God needed to take him home… And he did… Bruce was pronounced ‘dead’ almost as soon as we arrived at the hospital.
To this day, I believe that was the hardest prayer I have ever said… But I also believe that it was the right one. It wasn’t a prayer about me or what I wanted. It was about Bruce… and what he would want.
Some days (when I am feeling so absolutely alone), I wonder if things would have been different if I had said a different prayer that night? I don’t know… I’ll never know… And while there are days when I regret that prayer (for my own sake), I still believe it was the right prayer for him… And that is where I find my peace.
Loss is hard, and grief is even harder. I have learned a lot on this journey – mostly about myself… what I think about life… and love… and my faith. (But I still hate it.) Now a days, I can say that there are more good days than bad, but I constantly find myself wishing for a world where Bruce is still by my side. Allowing myself the space I need to heal and process everything hasn’t been easy. Yet, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!
In fact, none of us need to be alone, because we have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
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