Home for Hospice
Estimated reading time: 11 minutes, 53 secondsHow do we tell Jan?
Walking home, I could not feel my legs or my feet. My legs moved correctly, but each step felt like a mile. When I stood in front of the building, Mike and Jon were parking. I texted Rabbi Renee while I waited for them to cross the street.
Rabbi, do you have time for a quick call?
April 6, 8:45 pm
Before we entered the apartment, the Rabbi was calling me.
“Rabbi Renee, how are you? My sons are here. Can I put you on speakerphone?”
With every ounce of strength, I had left, I explained what we had heard from Dr. Strair.
“She is coming home soon for hospice and only has a few weeks to live.”
Jan is such a strong woman and has fought her cancer with all her heart. I cannot believe this!”
The boys filled her in on what Dr. Strair had said while I tried to eat. I was hungry, but each bite was tasteless.
We need to talk about how we will tell her tomorrow,” I interjected. With the COVID restrictions, only I can be with her.
“Rabbis are always allowed in the hospital.”
“Dr. Strair said he would work with Dr. Saksena to allow Mike and I to be there.”
I am sure the doctor had said that, but I could not remember much about the call.
We agreed that we would coordinate a time with the two doctors so that we could support Jan once she heard the news.
“I could not do this without the three of you.”
I love Jan and your sons; we will all be there to help you!
We ended the call, and we all attempted to sleep.As much as I knew the lymphoma was aggressive, I had never anticipated that the love of my life would not survive. Three days ago, I was sure she was on the road to recovery.
“Listening to her talk to Jon and feeling the warmth of her smile, she seemed like the healthiest she had been in years. Her voice was like the one I heard the day we met. Strong, confident, reassuring, and soothing.”
Help Me Help Jan
What had changed in seventy-two hours?
I lay in bed in a cold sweat the rest of the night. I need to be fully present for Jan. I thought I was about to cry, but nothing came out of my tear ducts. I kept repeating that I must be fully present for Jan. I have to love her more now than ever.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
