You Just Have To Be Brave
Yeah, Right
I just wanted to die. Crawl in a deep, dark hole where no one would ever find me. Where I could be left alone to wallow in my grief for all eternity. “You just have to be brave,” said Maggie, the hospice nurse. I wanted to slap her just then. She was an amazing person throughout my wife’s time in the nursing home. Really, an angel on earth. But don’t fucking tell me to be brave. Not now. Not today.
She was right. I had to be brave. I had to tough it out for the sake of my children as they counted the hours until their mom drew her last breath. I had to be the chief consoler.
My daughter Kelly’s relationship with my wife Nancy was like two peas in a pod. I am so proud of them. They are and were amazing, loving, caring women. Her husband is a great guy and was so helpful on the last day of Nancy’s life. But on that day, she needed hugs from dad. Or was it that I needed hugs from her. Let’s just say we both needed lots of hugs. Holding on for dear life.
My youngest son Joe, who had the privilege of living with us longer than his siblings, was trying so hard to deal with the situation. It was his first up close and personal loss of a loved one. His mom. I was impressed with him then and more so now as I look back on that day. If anyone was brave that day, it was Joe. Our baby, who was thirty-two then with a…
