wheelsinmyhead

It’s amazing how a song can touch someone. The story of how it’s written. It’s sentiment to the writer. Anyone that’s a song writer would probably agree that the perception of a song is different for every listener.  Tonight, I went to a little coffee shop, Authentic Coffee Company, located off of Highway 31 W in Goodlettsville, TN to hear my sister-in-law Erika Chambers sing. I’ve heard her sing many times over the past few years. It’s always a fun time with good friends and great music. There were actually four people up on stage tonight; Erika Chambers, Amy Lewis Strother, Kyle Aaron and Sarah Peasall McGuffey. All of them played and sounded beautifully. Each of them did about five or six of their best songs. Some new and some old. As I expected, all were wonderful to hear. However, this was the first time I listened to Sarah Peasall McGuffey perform. All of the musicians were terrific, but Sarah stood out for me tonight because of one song. She played a song that tugged at my heart more than any I have ever heard. I felt overhelmed (in a good way) by her song “If I Had Known”. The words really hit close to home. “If I Had Known” talks about the things a person would’ve done differently, meaningful things, if they had known the outcome of the relationship ended in saying goodbye to each other. Everyone has their own take on a song and allows it to speak to them in different ways regardless of its intent. Certain lines you overlook to make the song fit your own situation. Well, I let that happen to me with “If I Had Known”. I thought of Aly. Over the past few months regrets have flooded my mind of what I should have done differently while we were married. This song pretty much summed up many thoughts and feelings I’ve had. I know I can’t change anything now, but I still think about certain things. I suppose that’s natural. No words can express the feelings that this song ignited within me. Sometimes the saddest of songs are the greatest and dearest to ones heart. Thank you Sarah Peasall McGuffey for giving me something, words… that really describe my feelings over the past few months. I hope to hear your music and listen to your beautiful voice again soon!

I continue to learn from you. I think about your actions in different situations all the time. The yearning I feel is unbelievably strong. Every emotion in my body cries out to you and wants to see you so badly. Tears are the immediate result of my emotion. When I’m not crying, the yearning is still there. It is though I’m left lingering over the thought of you when I’m not crying. Stuck on a thought. Never wanting to let go. I cry so hard for you. Each time I break down and cry, afterwards I look back on the moment and think that you must have felt such an intense love, need and want for God. I so badly want that for myself. I wish I could transfer my grief of you to God and yearn for Him in the same way. How can you transfer such a strong physical connection between human beings to a non physical, spiritual being that you can’t touch or see? Yes, I can see His works, but it is not the same. When I’m not yearning for you, I’m yearning for something else. Guidance? When will I find out the answer? I look for it on a daily basis. Every day I find something new that I’d give up to have you back. Your touch. Your hug. That squeeze of a hug. I never wanted to let go. You would always let go first. I hate crying over you because I know I’ll never get what I want afterwards. You won’t just suddenly appear out of nowhere or walk in from another room acting normal like everything is fine.

I hate the dream of you I had the other night. I dreamed came back to life. You didn’t know how it happened and neither did I. We couldn’t seem to figure it out. You knew that you had been dead, but acted like nothing had happened. It felt so real. I really felt like we were back together and were living our lives again. I was so happy. I could smell you. When I touched you, it really felt like I was touching you. We had real conversation. You responded. Then I woke up. I didn’t know I was waking up. It felt like I had just left the room and was going to come right back, but I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling fan instead. I closed my eyes to see you again, but you were gone. Ripped away. Ripped away just like you were in reality. It makes me angry at God so much. I feel bad for it afterwards, but the feeling is still there.

Am I jealous? Am I jealous that He has you and I do not. How can I feel that way towards Him. He’s God! He isn’t just some guy that wooed you and stole you away from me with glamour and charm. Yet I still feel robbed. I hate the feeling. I want to get over it. Move past it.

     Isn’t it interesting to think about what the next ten years will bring? We all think that ten years will pass by so fast, but really, ten years is a long time. Think about it. Ask yourself what you’ve done over the past ten years. Marriage? Divorce? Kids? Buried a loved one? Lost weight? Gained weight? Achieved financial success? Declared bankruptcy? Had some form of life change whether good or bad? None of these things just happened over night. Well, maybe the conception of the kids, but not so for everything else. Why is it that we complain about what we’re not doing with our lives? Ten years out of high school… you’ve had plenty of time to figure it out, right? Not me.

     Even when I was married I still had no idea what the future held. I knew that I wanted kids, for my marriage to continue on a healthy path, get a better paying job and be happy. I was set! Then the unbelievable happened. I lost my wife to cancer. When this happened I didn’t know what to do with my life. I still don’t completely, but I know more about what I like and what I don’t like. That’s a start I suppose. I’ve learned what it means to be a servant to someone, how to eat healthy (even if I don’t choose to eat healthy) and the meaning of making a choice.

     The choices I had made in life up to this point weren’t terrible. So, why would this happen? I didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did. I feel there were some poor decisions made prior to our marriage and during. Food specifically. Our food choices could have been better. It is true that these choices did not help prevent what happened. We could have bought better, more healthy types of food when going to the grocery store. We just didn’t. If you can afford it, do it. If you can’t afford it, find a way to do it. When eating healthy, your mind might not be satisfied at first, but your body will. Feed your body, not your mind. We didn’t do this. I’m working on it now. Again, it’s a choice and not always easy. If eating healthy was easy who would choose to be overweight? Sweets, dairy and breaded foods were her weaknesses. Mine was just eating when I wasn’t actually hungry. We decided to make a change in our diet just a few months before her diagnoses. Was this the trigger? Surly not. I don’t like the thought that making a change for the better might have brought on her death.

     I’ve blamed many things over the months since her death. But, why should I? It’s not going to bring her back. This might sound harsh, but as much as I would love to see her, feel her, kiss her… I don’t think I’d want her back. Wait! Read that last sentence again before you start judging. Yes, it still sounds harsh, but think of this: if she suddenly were back here on Earth, that would mean she would have to die again. Can you imagine feeling deaths grip twice? Especially the way she felt it? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Even Jesus wept when He knew Lazarus was about to be brought back. He knew that Lazarus would basically have to leave Heaven just roam around on Earth again. Yes, I feel that my wife is in Heaven. Therefore, I don’t want her to come back to this place. This isn’t the best analogy, but it’s kind of like going to the beach on vacation and then you have to come back home when you’re done. Nobody wants to come back home. Again, that’s not the best analogy, but you get the point. Maybe I have it all wrong. It’s just a feeling and sometimes feelings change.

     Go ahead and consider yourself a servant. That’s exactly what you are. Your personal time has gone out the door. It can be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do in your life no matter how old you are. There are two things I’ve learned from being a servant. You have to be selfless. That includes showing patience that you may not have realized you ever had. You’ve got it in there. Use it. This is where it shows up. The second thing I’ve learned is the love, compassion and grace the Lord has shown us in our worst and greatest moments. I don’t have children, but this has got to be one of the greatest teachings God has ever shown us to practice on our kids. Again, it’s not easy. People don’t just wake up in the morning all excited to do this. Being a servant is a choice. If you love someone, this is where your love and commitment shines. Your time together, happy memories and all aspects of excitement are tested during this time. Go big or go home! You better go big. Going home is a choice you’ll never recover from for the rest of your life. As a servant you’ll need respite time. A family member or friend will give up some of their time for you to go and relax. Recoup. Go somewhere to decompress. Your nerves are shot and you’re probably stressed. You need to be mentally and emotionally prepared to jump back in once you’re done. Don’t feel like you’re being selfish by taking a respite. I did. So I understand why you might not want to. Looking back now I realize how important it was for me. Just do it!

     Staying (living) in the hospital isn’t fun. It’s gloomy. There’s nothing wonderful about it. If you’re like me you cringe whenever a doctor comes into the room out of fear of hearing bad news. When it rains it pours, unfortunately. Hope for the best, expect the worse. All you do is sit there and help when you can. It’s even kind of depressing. You’re constantly wanting to hear good news from nurses/doctors and see progress in your loved one. There are annoyances that pop up all the time. You’re always critiquing the nurses job in your mind about whether or not they did this right or that right. Just face it, life isn’t the Ritz!

     Beep, beep, beep, beep!!! Over and over again this noise that has been engraved into my brain goes off several times during the night. Every night. The nurses say it’s normal. Really? How can something so annoying that wakes you up at least once an hour be normal? When staying in the hospital I’ve learned you sleep when you can. Even if it seems rude during the day when people have come from wherever to talk and see how you and your loved one are doing. Sleep. You need it. You have to stay healthy for the person you’re watching over and care for. Otherwise, you’re useless. Sure the nurses do a great job taking care of them, but it’s not the same when someone who loves you cleans up your vomit. Actually, if you’re the one doing the vomiting you probably don’t care who cleans it up as long as it’s done. However, for the person that’s there with the sickly all the time and loves them, it’s rewarding. It gives you something to do besides just sitting there. You feel like you’re helping. In some ways it’s all you can do to help. Clean up their messes when you can. Feed them if you have to. Read to them. Doing these things helps you just as much as it helps them. One important thing you shouldn’t ever do is baby them. This does not encourage them to get better. It’s a hindrance. Does more harm than good. A person lying in a hospital bed needs to get up and start walking (if they have the ability to walk). Help them to do this. Encourage them. It will be painful at first. Go easy. Baby steps. Nobody needs to be running a marathon here. Hospitals are expensive. No one enjoys overnight stays at hotel local hospital. Get them walking and get them home. You’re already paying a mortgage/rent. No matter what, don’t leave if they’re not able. That will cause more problems which means a longer road to recovery. If the person lying in the bed seems to have the ability to get up, but simply choices not to; don’t be afraid to show a little tough love. Don’t be mean, but you must be stern. Show love. Don’t cause problems where you’re both on opposite sides. Again, don’t baby them. At this point you’re already tired of getting up over and over again to push the silent button on the annoying machine and call the nurses to fix the “normal” problem. They’ve been walking some by now, let them get up and push the button if they can.

     Questions, comments and/or concerns… let me know. I can elaborate on some areas if you’d like.

     She was loved. The room was full of friends and family. Some had driven up from Florida over night in the snowy bad weather just to spend a few short hours with her. Another had flown in from New Mexico. Most lived nearby and were very close. I was her husband. We were married at our church on July 7, 2007 in Hendersonville, TN. What a great day it was joined by friends and family to watch us show our commitment to each other before God and all. I never would have guessed that just three and a half years later some of the very same people gathered at our wedding would be saying goodbye to the love of my life. Three and a half years. More like three short days. It felt like some sort of cruel joke. I felt numb. I cried (i’m crying right now). I really cried months later. Why would God put this awful disgusting disease called cancer in my wife’s body? She was wonderful. She helped people. She loved people. She loved God and would always defend Him. Besides the occasional tiffs we would have as a married couple (and best friends), there wasn’t any fighting with anyone. Ever. Was it something I did? Was I the one that brought this on? What did I do? How could I fix it? I couldn’t do anything. It was completely out of my hands and that was the worst feeling ever. That hopeless feeling of not being able to fix a situation, specifically a human life, makes you seem worthless. It was up to God now. It had always been up to God. After all, this was just a small part of the grand plan, right? How can you love someone so much and have them taken from you within a blink of an eye? I love God, but why would He let this happen? This was my life He was messing with!

     I had slept at home the night before because I felt so tired. How could I be so selfish? I was mad at myself for that later. Others made me realize I had to take care of myself too, not just her. I didn’t care about myself. She was the one in pain and standing at death’s door. When I walked into the room, it was full of friends and family. They were praying. I wasn’t much of a prayer. I believed that prayer was helpful, but I honestly didn’t know if I was doing it correctly. I’ve come to realize that there isn’t a wrong way to pray. Just say what you’re feeling. Sounds simple. Sounds simple because it is that simple. I’ve also come to realize the difference between believing something and feeling like you believe in something. Words from the heart, basically. I walked over and kissed her on the mouth and told her I loved her. I held her cool hands for a few minutes. Thought it was odd at how cool they were. Then I walked out of the room while people continued to pray. I felt numb. I didn’t know what to do.

     I kept thinking about the night before when she first got to the hospice center. It had started to snow really hard outside which made it difficult for the ambulance that was transporting her from the hospital to drive quickly. Heavy traffic. I didn’t mind driving on snow so instead of just waiting around for the ambulance to arrive I decided to go home and get a few of her things I knew she would like to have. I grabbed a few blankets, some of our wedding pictures and movies. Princess Bride was her favorite. Made it back just as she was arriving. Tried to make the gloomy room look more home like. Didn’t work. Painting the walls might have helped. Once she was finally settled in the room we tried to talk a bit, but she was very out of it. She couldn’t make complete sentences anymore. That hurt. As the night went on more and more people were showing up to pray over her. It felt comforting to know people were there for her that cared. Even though I couldn’t do anything to fix the problem, that seemed to help tremendously. While people were praying she suddenly mumbled that she wanted to try and sit in the chair next to the bed. So, two others and myself helped her up and into the chair. She seemed to have some energy. That continued to give me hope. Hope. I never even thought of her actually dying. Dying as in leaving and not being able to talk anymore or hug anymore or anything. I had hope the entire time even though she was in hospice. I thought there was still a chance she could come home. As if the cancer would just suddenly leave her body like it was never there. That would have been a miracle. I believe that miracles can happen. I just don’t know what one looks like. Maybe someday. My eyes are open. People had been leaving over the past hour or two saying they would be back early the next morning to continue praying. With just a few people left in the room, she decided she wanted to get back into the bed. This was difficult. She was barely audible at this point and had no strength in her body. We were still having trouble as I was behind her trying to lift her up and two others were in front. Her sister ask if she could help, but then she spoke up and said, “Terry’s got me”. None of us knew this would be the last thing she would ever say. I cry every time I think about it. That doesn’t bring her back. We finally got her back into the bed. Her mom stayed in the room with her that night. I told her I loved her and gave her a kiss. I went home (WHY???). That was the first night I really felt alone.

     As I was out in the hallway with others I could hear everyone in the room singing worship songs. At one point, I heard her begin to make loud moaning noises that sounded like she was trying to sing along. She was still in there somewhere and could understand what was going on. I had hope. Then it was taken away. Someone rushed out into the hallway a few minutes later saying I should come in. Everyone began to leave the room as the nurse told me her heartbeat was almost impossible to find. I hugged her, kissed her and kept telling her how much I loved her and that I’d give anything if I could trade places with her. God didn’t allow that. After a few minutes people starting coming back into the room. I just stood there over her. Looking at her. Helpless. Wanting to do something, but couldn’t. My brain was screaming, why her? What did she ever do to deserve this? She didn’t commit murder. Never stole anything. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t drink alcohol. Hardly ever cussed. So what gives? Her breaths were becoming few and far between. Never knowing when the last one was going to be. It was peaceful. No body was saying anything. It was like an empty room. She just laid there. Not moving. Started to drool. I kept thinking that this was it. I’m watching a person die. My wife. The love of my life who I was suppose to grow old with about to die. This is really happening? After about a minute, we realized she hadn’t taken another breath. She was gone. The nurse tried finding a heartbeat, but couldn’t. She was gone. Just like that everything seemed different. I was alone. She was gone. I kissed her once more realizing how cold she was already starting to feel and told her I loved her. That was our last kiss. I stood there for a minute hoping she would move or something. Nothing happened. I wanted so badly to hear her say, “I love you”, but she didn’t. I just wanted to hear it one more time and never forget it. I left the room, walked down the hall and went out the building. I got in my dads truck. The date was February 10, 2011 and I have never screamed at God as loud or as painfully as I did then. My stomach hurt I was crying so much and screaming. I just sat there for a few minutes. I began to make phone calls telling people that this was the phone call I’ve been dreading to make. After the calls, I started to think of all the joys in life we’ll never get to experience as a married couple. No kids. No more vacations together. No more happy memories. Everything that was, frozen in time. I felt numb again.

     It’s been six months now. I think about her every single day. How could I not? She was my wife. I loved her. I still do. I always will. I’ve learned what it’s like to grieve. I still am. It’s not the same or nearly as often as it was before. I think I will always grieve over her, but differently each time. The thought of watching her die plays over and over in my mind on a daily basis. Some days not as often, but still happens. It’s getting better. My relationship with God has become stronger then it has ever been. I’m thankful for this. God is a constant regardless of my surroundings. I do my best to remember each night when I go to bed to thank Him for everything He has blessed me with. The people in my life. The support. Where I live. Everything. Thanking Him helps to keep the wheels in my head under control, think only positive thoughts and not dwell on the negative. It hasn’t been easy to thank God. I don’t always want to, but I do it anyway. I believe in Him even when I don’t feel it. It’s a choice I will continue to make for the rest of my life. Aly opened my eyes to You. I love You!

     I’ll be writing more if you care to follow…

I need an outlet and this is it. My bottled up overflow (spillage, if you will) will be expressed here every so often. I won’t always talk about the same things. However, at first I’ll be talking about Aly. I need to let things out in this format instead of continuously bringing it up to people. Not everything will be sad or show that I’m down in the dumps. There will be uplifting topics. Mostly I’m just trying to get memories out of my mind and store them else where. We’ll see if it works. Either way, I’m hoping this will be therapeutic.