His Mercies are New Every Morning

February 17, 2018

How do I even start this blog entry. It’s been one week since I lost my husband, one whole week. 

Last week, February 7th, was the last day I kissed him, hugged him and told him how much I loved him. When you saw Ben, he looked sick, but not like he was approaching death within hours. He was eating, drinking, talking. He sat and visited with everyone who came into Hospice. On February 7th Ben and I even sat with our counsellor for an hour and talked about what death looked like to Ben, his fears, his legacy, his life. My dad visited that day and while Ben was sleeping we reminisced about Ben’s favourite things, time at the cottage and how we couldn’t believe where we were that day. Around 6pm that evening my sister came by with my nieces and Ben woke with a huge smile on his face asking the girls how their dance classes went and how school was going. All we could do was laugh at how he slept all day, but managed to get up and entertain his nieces. In the middle of their visit Ben got up to use the washroom when things took a drastic turn. Ben’s ostomy bag was filling with blood. He called me into the washroom in a panic and I paged the nurses on call for assistance. Ben’s bag filled continuously. The nurses helped him as I sat and watched in awe. My sister took the girls home and my dad left so I could attend to Ben. Shortly after they left Ben’s bag filled yet again, alarming the nurses, calling the on call physician and telling me I should phone our family and closest friends to come and be with Ben. They gave me the look of “this is it”. All I remember is somehow being calm, watching Ben and the nurses around me. They were able to get Ben back into bed as family members filed into the room surrounding him. To all of our surprise, my husband managed to have a plate of pasta heated and served to him in the midst of what was most likely an internal hemorrhage caused by the extensively growing tumours throughout Ben’s body. (This will explain our last picture together above showing the large plate of pasta in front of Ben) Just a few minutes after that photo was taken, Ben’s bag filled yet again, pushing all of our friends and family out of the room as nurses and doctors came in to deal with what would be the last few hours of Ben’s life. Ben managed to lose about 50% of his blood in a very short period of time. I watched as the nurses worked to settle Ben, to get him as comfortable as possible since he was in so much pain. I watched my husband, my love, fight harder than he has ever fought in those last hours. Once the doctors were able to get Ben comfortable, he rolled over to his side, curled up into a ball, and surrounded by his family and closest friends, we watched Ben close his eyes and take his last breaths. I have never experienced something so heartbreaking in my entire life. The person who filled my life, who gave me my babies, who loved me so unconditionally was gone. 

visit from my sister and nieces

Daddy and his girls a few days before his passing

The first week of grieving my husband has taught me a lot. I didn’t know grief could be as simple as seeing his clothes hanging in his closet, opening the vanity drawer to grab my toothbrush only to see his tooth brush sitting there, hearing my phone go off only to pray and hope the messages are from him, going into the garage and seeing his tools, his white hardhat he wore proudly at work, his work boots still sitting there. People don’t mention these little things. But they are the hardest. All of his belongings were brought back to me from Hospice and put in our room. I have been sleeping with Brooke since Ben passed. I went into our room and saw everything lying there and broke down uncontrollably. My best friend and sister just held me. I had his eye glasses in my hand, his wallet and his camo bag he carried around with him everywhere, just sitting on my lap. I have learned that losing your husband (or wife) is much different than losing another family member or friend. Your life has been built together, everything you do was done together, for your family. I struggled watching as everyone else got to go home with their significant other and I was sitting there losing my life as I knew it. Simple tasks like driving a car, attending an appointment or even picking up Brooke from school simply exhaust me. I watch as everyone else seems to just skip through each day with energy and enthusiasm and I literally can’t get myself out of bed. A good family friend of mine who lost her husband a few years ago sat with me over a glass of wine the other night and said “grief is like fear”. That’s exactly how grief feels to me. Fear of Ben never coming back, fear of how I am going to raise our daughters alone, fear of how I am going to go back to work and what that is going to look like, the deep down inside you fear that makes your stomach flip and makes you feel ill. It comes in waves. Sometimes completely out of nowhere. 

I look at this picture everyday. I miss him so much it hurts.

Brooke and Kendal have been such a good support for me. My sweet little Kendal hugs me and comforts me in the times where I feel like giving up, “mommy, I love you so much”. My strong, beautiful Brooke, how my heart is just hurting for her right now. She is trying so hard to figure out what just happened. She asks me the hardest questions, questions that bring tears to my eyes and all I can do is hug her and lay with her. I am asked daily when daddy will be home. Oh my beautiful girl, how I pray for you in the midst of this storm. How I hope life for you is not so painful and hard on you. 

As Brooke, Kendal and I adjust to life as three, I am thankful for my mom who has dropped her entire life for me right now. She has essentially moved in to help me with the girls as I wake every morning to the reality of losing Ben. Mom, thank you for carrying me right now, loving me and loving the girls. I am equally thankful for my best friends and close family who come over almost every night and sit with me, cry with me, and laugh with me right now. Being alone right now scares me so I am thankful for a house filled with the closest people to me right now. 

My prayer requests today are for Brooke, that God helps her little heart through this. For me, that the panic in me right now is replaced with peace and good memories rather than replaying in my head what just happened over the past week. 

Thank you for those who attended the visitation and funeral this past week. The support from each of you who came will always be remembered. I am in awe of how God has used both Ben and I through this. I hope God continues to use me in ways that I can learn and grow. I am so unbelievably thankful for community, for friends, for family. I say that all the time, but it is so true. You all need to know how much YOU have touched MY heart. God continues to bless me through this storm. I see Him through all of you and how kind and gentle you all are towards me and the girls. Thank you.

As I wake to everyday going forward, I am comforted by this single bible verse.... "His mercies are new every morning..." -Lamintations 3:23. Every morning I rise I am trying to remind myself of this verse. I have this visual of the sun shining, God smiling, and gifting me a new day to heal, breath and learn through this. How great is our God. His mercies are new every single morning.

In his happy place

My first tattoo. My favourite bible verse. Something I hear God saying to me, as well as Ben.