Dear Sue,
Where and how do I begin to tell you what lives in my heart? I have let the music play right now as it did for the last year as we would sit together reading while you napped. I knew the rest was good for you and could never waken you before your eyes would open and smile at me. After the stem cell transplant, you never regained your weight, you never regained your energy, you never lost your bright smile or spirit to live. You endured so much to let me have all of the days possible with you. I ache each time I picture you in the ICU bed with your hands tethered down. You couldn’t reach out to touch me, to touch your own face or to clasp your hands together in prayer. You would smile when you were cleaned but you wanted so much to be able to care for yourself – it was one of your criteria for living on. I knew it was so hard for you and I felt so helpless to change it. I felt like I let you down so much as your last days passed. Your strength was gone and I couldn’t give you any of mine; your spirit was so strong and kept mine in a state of hope for the outcome. All of the doctors and nurses loved you and cared for you in their best fashion because you always smiled at them and sincerely thanked them for helping you. You smiled and thanked the speech pathologist after she told you for the fourth time that you could not eat yet because you still couldn’t swallow without food going into your lungs. A smile and thankful nod you gave her, and I sank as I could feel another day passing without you being able to eat or drink anything. From the day you entered the ICU you never ate or drank anything. I think my heart broke a little bit more each day because I couldn’t do anything to change your life for the better. All I could do was love you, hold you, touch you, kiss you, rub your body, wipe your face, brush your hair, help you change positions in the bed, call for help when you needed it, bring you news of your brother or others and express my belief that you would be coming home one of these days.
You are home today and you will stay with me in our home until I can be with you again. I talk with you each evening, I cry and pine for a closer relationships with you. I know you are gone from this earth, but I also know we will be together again one day. My heart feels the most unbelievable pain that I can imagine. I don’t know how any heart can endure through these days, but this heart does. Some have suggested that I must be angry at some level, but you know I am not. You know me so well. You knot that I have always felt that anger was a wasted emotion. It doesn’t solve anything and it takes up so much energy that could be used in better ways. I don’t feel cheated by God or anyone. I am grateful for the life we had together and for the memories we created together. I am grateful for the friendships that you helped us create and I know you were the elixir for those relationships.
I miss you so much so often. I miss your smile, your touch. I miss the passion, the tenderness, the sharing of intimacy. I miss bringing to you the thing that you might want but would not get for yourself because it seemed unimportant or too expensive. I miss you tasting whatever food I might order and telling me how good it is. I miss watching you sleep in the morning before you awoke. I miss watching you dress, put on a little makeup, brush your hair and change your mind about what went best with an outfit. I miss rubbing your back, your feet, your scalp, and face. I miss interrupting your yoga by invading your chosen positions with my body. I miss how you always let me do that and laughed with me and smiled when I did it. You were never mad at me for very long. You would always let me apologize and let me understand how I hurt your feelings so it would never happen again. You never hurt my feelings—you wouldn’t know how to do that to anyone.
I suppose this letter to you now has a beginning even though I said I didn’t know where to begin. I told the counselor today that I understand that for my life under the heading “reasons to stop living” I cannot list one thing, but under the heading “reasons to keep living” I also cannot list one singe thing right now. If I could go to sleep like your grandfather did, I know I would have a smile on my face when found. I can only take small steps right now and without you each one seems enormous. If my arm was broken or my face was cut and bleeding, I could understand and begin to treat the pain from those wounds to my body. I am completely lost in how to treat my heart and soul right now. I miss you more than these words can begin got express. I am so lucky to have had you in my life for so long. You are now in every breath I take and every step I make toward tomorrow. I believe that I fell in love with you when I saw you with your scraggly chemo hair and your beautiful smile on your face and in the past 38 years since then my love for you has only grown deeper and stronger. I am so lucky and so sad right now.
I love you, Sue.
Written by: Les McCarroll
Sept. 2024