The above piece was written by a friend in our over-55 community located in Central Florida. Please read it.
I was never alone
My husband wrote this and I wanted to share it with everyone. So much to think about in these hard times. Preface: As has been an all too frequent occurrence over the past 15 years or so, I recently woke up in the middle of the night, my mind filled to capacity with a myriad of trivial and statistical jibbergush.
However, one thought eventually broke away from the pack. It became clearer and clearer as I struggled to focus on it … During this ongoing stay-at-home period due to the coronavirus pandemic, my wife, Karen, and I have been trying to absorb as much information about the issue as possible. We’ve been watching the television coverage on a variety of national and local networks, as well as reading all we can online. Some of the coverage has centered around the horrible scenarios in ICUs all across the country. So many COVID-19 patients are suffering and dying, yet tragically, no family members are allowed to be by their side during their final moments. No services or funerals or celebrations of life would be possible, at least not for the foreseeable future.
It was this heart-wrenching scenario that kept me awake in the darkness of that particular evening. After lamenting the tragedy that so many families had incurred, and most certainly, many more will incur over the next weeks, images and words suddenly began streaming into my consciousness. In retrospect, I probably should have immediately headed to the computer right then and there so as to accurately log what was flowing through my mind. No, this wasn’t an “I see dead people” moment. It was just something that happened that I feel I should share. I can’t explain it, nor do I feel compelled to explore the why’s and the how’s of it. What follows, to the best of my recollection, is the narrative of that recent sleepless evening …
I Was Never Alone -written by 4/14/20 My name is … actually of no real significance to this message. I represent but one of the thousands who have fallen victim to this invisible enemy, this silent assassin, this plague upon humankind. I’m simply another single tick in the constantly-updating tally of deaths that you may notice from the corner of your eye flashing across your television or computer screen. I was no better or worse than any of the others who have fallen prey, no more or less important. I led a full life, made an honest living, paid my taxes, and practiced my faith. I was fortunate enough to achieve certain measures of moderate success along the journey. However, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that my greatest accomplishment over my many years was my children – the most significant legacy that I could ever bequest to this world.
While I wish my family could have been present to share in the final moments of my life, including my last remaining futile breaths, I now understand and accept the reasons that prevented them from doing so. The hospital absolutely had to quarantine itself from outsiders to prevent an even worse spread of this pandemic. They had to keep me isolated at any and all cost. That meant no family, no friends, no loved ones at my bedside. It was a given, an absolute, a had to be so. I realize that my family’s lack of closure causes them even more sadness and grief than did my simple passing. They deeply regret that I left his earth with not so much as a single loved one at my side to hold my hand, to say a final goodbye, to whisper an “I love you” in my ear.
I aspire at this time to assure my beloved family - as well as my friends who also wished they could have been there with me - while I did indeed pass without any of them at my side, I was not by myself. While I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. I do not possess the words to express how grateful I am to the doctors and nurses who cared for me and fought for me, even though they probably understood they were backing a losing candidate. Each one of them has a family of their own, and they risked their own safety day after day, as well as that of their families, to care for me. The same can be said of the technicians, therapists, and custodial staff. Everyone who came within my limited range of vision and hearing offered a warm, compassionate smile and a kind word, not once, but every single time they came by. Some held my hand briefly, or padded me on my shoulder or on my head. These people should be regarded as crusaders and heroes, and even saints in this battle.
So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. In what I realized would be my final fleeting moments, images and memories from my life appeared in crystal clear focus to me, in seemingly perfect chronological order. I saw my childhood room, all my brothers and sisters opening gifts on Christmas morning, my friends singing “Happy Birthday” at my party. I saw our dog and the two of us chasing each other in our backyard. I saw my first bike, and then my first car. I saw my parents beaming proudly when I got the game-winning hit, and again later on at my graduation and at my wedding. I saw my bride-to-be for the first time all over again.
I heard us exchange our wedding vows as I looked into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I saw the two of us in the delivery room for the birth of our first child, and then again for our second. I saw our children’s first steps and heard their first words. I saw them off for their first days of school, and then listened to them sing at their school concerts. I saw myself helping them with school projects and insisting that they study for exams. I saw them go off with their prom dates while I worried every moment until they arrived back home safely. I watched them grow up and mature and become their own persons. I saw them walk down the aisle on their wedding days. I saw them each cradle their own newborn children in their arms. I saw the whole circle of life completing itself, as I watched my grandchildren grow up.
Just like the joy I felt when my own children would call me Daddy, I relived that joy upon hearing my grandchildren call me PopPop. I heard myself telling my children, now parents themselves, “you see? - now you know what we went through when you were little!” So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. Just moments after taking my final breath, I saw my own parents, who had both passed some twenty years prior. They weren’t old and sickly, but appeared as I remembered them with proud smiles on their faces, just like at my ballgame and my graduation, and countless other times during my life. I saw all my aunts and uncles and cousins and friends and co-workers that had passed before me. They all had their open arms extended towards me, as though welcoming me into their world. I even saw my dog, who still seemed eager to chase me around the yard.
So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. I understand that all of this may be a lot to process for those who survive me. My hope is that, while your grief may linger far into the future, there is absolutely no reason to feel guilty about how my story ended, and the fact that you were denied the opportunity to be at my side in my final moments. I feel it is both necessary and beneficial to share these final events and images, not only with my family and friends, but with those of the many other thousands who perished at the hand of this evil pandemic. It is my hope that you can come to accept and realize that, while we may have died in solitude, we were never alone …
Thank
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I was never alone
My husband wrote this and I wanted to share it with everyone. So much to think about in these hard times. Preface: As has been an all too frequent occurrence over the past 15 years or so, I recently woke up in the middle of the night, my mind filled to capacity with a myriad of trivial and statistical jibbergush.
However, one thought eventually broke away from the pack. It became clearer and clearer as I struggled to focus on it … During this ongoing stay-at-home period due to the coronavirus pandemic, my wife, Karen, and I have been trying to absorb as much information about the issue as possible. We’ve been watching the television coverage on a variety of national and local networks, as well as reading all we can online. Some of the coverage has centered around the horrible scenarios in ICUs all across the country. So many COVID-19 patients are suffering and dying, yet tragically, no family members are allowed to be by their side during their final moments. No services or funerals or celebrations of life would be possible, at least not for the foreseeable future.
It was this heart-wrenching scenario that kept me awake in the darkness of that particular evening. After lamenting the tragedy that so many families had incurred, and most certainly, many more will incur over the next weeks, images and words suddenly began streaming into my consciousness. In retrospect, I probably should have immediately headed to the computer right then and there so as to accurately log what was flowing through my mind. No, this wasn’t an “I see dead people” moment. It was just something that happened that I feel I should share. I can’t explain it, nor do I feel compelled to explore the why’s and the how’s of it. What follows, to the best of my recollection, is the narrative of that recent sleepless evening …
I Was Never Alone -written by 4/14/20 My name is … actually of no real significance to this message. I represent but one of the thousands who have fallen victim to this invisible enemy, this silent assassin, this plague upon humankind. I’m simply another single tick in the constantly-updating tally of deaths that you may notice from the corner of your eye flashing across your television or computer screen. I was no better or worse than any of the others who have fallen prey, no more or less important. I led a full life, made an honest living, paid my taxes, and practiced my faith. I was fortunate enough to achieve certain measures of moderate success along the journey. However, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that my greatest accomplishment over my many years was my children – the most significant legacy that I could ever bequest to this world.
While I wish my family could have been present to share in the final moments of my life, including my last remaining futile breaths, I now understand and accept the reasons that prevented them from doing so. The hospital absolutely had to quarantine itself from outsiders to prevent an even worse spread of this pandemic. They had to keep me isolated at any and all cost. That meant no family, no friends, no loved ones at my bedside. It was a given, an absolute, a had to be so. I realize that my family’s lack of closure causes them even more sadness and grief than did my simple passing. They deeply regret that I left his earth with not so much as a single loved one at my side to hold my hand, to say a final goodbye, to whisper an “I love you” in my ear.
I aspire at this time to assure my beloved family - as well as my friends who also wished they could have been there with me - while I did indeed pass without any of them at my side, I was not by myself. While I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. I do not possess the words to express how grateful I am to the doctors and nurses who cared for me and fought for me, even though they probably understood they were backing a losing candidate. Each one of them has a family of their own, and they risked their own safety day after day, as well as that of their families, to care for me. The same can be said of the technicians, therapists, and custodial staff. Everyone who came within my limited range of vision and hearing offered a warm, compassionate smile and a kind word, not once, but every single time they came by. Some held my hand briefly, or padded me on my shoulder or on my head. These people should be regarded as crusaders and heroes, and even saints in this battle.
So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. In what I realized would be my final fleeting moments, images and memories from my life appeared in crystal clear focus to me, in seemingly perfect chronological order. I saw my childhood room, all my brothers and sisters opening gifts on Christmas morning, my friends singing “Happy Birthday” at my party. I saw our dog and the two of us chasing each other in our backyard. I saw my first bike, and then my first car. I saw my parents beaming proudly when I got the game-winning hit, and again later on at my graduation and at my wedding. I saw my bride-to-be for the first time all over again.
I heard us exchange our wedding vows as I looked into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I saw the two of us in the delivery room for the birth of our first child, and then again for our second. I saw our children’s first steps and heard their first words. I saw them off for their first days of school, and then listened to them sing at their school concerts. I saw myself helping them with school projects and insisting that they study for exams. I saw them go off with their prom dates while I worried every moment until they arrived back home safely. I watched them grow up and mature and become their own persons. I saw them walk down the aisle on their wedding days. I saw them each cradle their own newborn children in their arms. I saw the whole circle of life completing itself, as I watched my grandchildren grow up.
Just like the joy I felt when my own children would call me Daddy, I relived that joy upon hearing my grandchildren call me PopPop. I heard myself telling my children, now parents themselves, “you see? - now you know what we went through when you were little!” So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. Just moments after taking my final breath, I saw my own parents, who had both passed some twenty years prior. They weren’t old and sickly, but appeared as I remembered them with proud smiles on their faces, just like at my ballgame and my graduation, and countless other times during my life. I saw all my aunts and uncles and cousins and friends and co-workers that had passed before me. They all had their open arms extended towards me, as though welcoming me into their world. I even saw my dog, who still seemed eager to chase me around the yard.
So, you see, while I may have died in solitude, I was never alone. I understand that all of this may be a lot to process for those who survive me. My hope is that, while your grief may linger far into the future, there is absolutely no reason to feel guilty about how my story ended, and the fact that you were denied the opportunity to be at my side in my final moments. I feel it is both necessary and beneficial to share these final events and images, not only with my family and friends, but with those of the many other thousands who perished at the hand of this evil pandemic. It is my hope that you can come to accept and realize that, while we may have died in solitude, we were never alone …




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