Well they say writing is good therapy so I will give it a try.

     Hubby and I were married for 20 years and we went everywhere together, did everything together, and now I know how it feels to have half of myself missing.

     He was a truck driver for 18 years and I rode with him all the time, where the truck was parked was home to us and we were happy just being together and seeing this great country. Before he became disabled with essential tremors(a neuroligical disorder) he got his million mile accident free driving award, that is something he was very proud of and I was so proud of him but he always said it was a team effort and bragged about how much I helped him.

      After his disability  retirement he joined a volunteer network called  DOE and spent much of his time trying to match up missing persons to unidentified persons. It is a great cause and everyone he worked with there loved and respected him.

     About 2 years ago he started having a nagging cough and I kept trying to get him to let me make an appt. with the Dr. but he just said no its just a cigarette cough, as time went by it got worse and I begged him to see a Dr. and he would smile and say quit nagging. I think he knew long before I did that he was very ill as he would say things like what are you going to do when I can't drive anymore? (Idont drive) Or if you outlive me what will you do when I am gone? well I would smile and say don't talk like that we are going to be in a nursing home together someday with matchinh rocking chairs.

   In December of 2007 he started having a lot of pain under his shoulder blade and his memory was getting very bad, he couldn't remember from one day to the next what had been said to him about any given subject and he blamed that on the medication he was taking for the essential tremors. Then a week before Christmas the pain got unbearable and he finally went to the Dr and they put him in the hospital. Not only was he in pain but his heart was going bonkers too so they started him on many meds to get him stable then started tests. they did a broncoscopy and a bone scan and several ultrasounds of his heart and many other tests.I spent all day everyday with him in the hospital and he started going down hill very fast because he contracted a resperatory virus on top of everything else. when all the tests were in the diagnosis was terminal lung cancer which it seems had spread to his brain and stomach as well as other places.

   I took him home and the Dr's called hospice for me, They were wonderful to us both. I was his primary care giver and the nurse came every other day and more often if I called. He didn't really want to talk about the future and what I would do but was very relieved when my sons both called and said I had a home with them if I chose after he passed. He went down hill very fast, his mind went and he only knew who I was, He couldn't get out of bed as his legs wouldn't hold him up he was so weak, he quit eating and wouldn't take his heart meds no matter how I tried. The hospice gave me meds for anxiaty that I could rub on his wrists and sleeping med to rub on also as he became very restless tword the end. He would fight me trying to get out of bed and I knew he would fall and I would not be able to pick him up even tho he had become just skin and bone. It was a 24/7 job but I would do it all over again just for one more hug and kiss. When he was quiet I would lay in bed and just hold him and talk softly to him,but I don't know if he understood what I was saying. I was so busy trying to care for him that it had not sunk in that he was going to die, so when it happened it was fast and I was in shock. I was alone with him when the end came and will never forget the look on his face, it haunts me!!! I keep feeling guilty that I didn't do enough for him or didn't do it right or he would still be with me, it all hurts so bad and I miss him soooo  much!!!

  Now I have moved from Tx to Tn and am with my son and family but everything has changed. I have been on my own since I was 16 and was always chief cook and bottle washer for my family and don't know how not to be that anymore,its like I am a square peg in a round hole and that dont fit. Maybe with time I will fit, what choice do I have. I go to bed each night and talk to his ashes and his picture and cry for hours its. Four weeks from diagnosis to death just wasn't enough time to say good by, January 24,2008 is the worst day of my life!!! Hopefully sometime soon I will join him and be happy for eternity. I LOVE YOU PHIL and ALWAYS WILL!!!!