Thursday, February 11, 2016

Your Dying Spouse 118 - The Limits of Love {FMF}

Time for Five Minute Friday, the weekly keyword-inspired timed writing challenge hosted by the inimitable Kate Motaung.

This week's word is LIMIT. (And Kate gave me the word ahead of time, so that I had some hope of writing something...she's wonderful.)

So...let's go.

This is all very hard to write.

When you're dying, you learn a lot of interesting things. Kind of like Schooldays in Hell, really.

One of those is that love has limits. It has to have limits.

My world is winding down, and I'm concerned largely with blood and bone...how much blood am I losing, and how on earth am I going to be able to accomplish something meaningful today?

Will it be a day where all I can do is watch a DVD and have a cigar, and wait for my rationed morphine to kick in?

I almost died last night; I felt the shadow of the wings of the angel of death, and I could not breathe. Sylvia did canine CPR, jumping on my chest and barking into my face.

I think she broke one of my ribs, but who cares? Really.

Barbara didn't know; she needs a full nights' sleep to do her job, so I sleep on an ottoman in the kennel. Barb has her own room. Since I tend to wake up screaming from pain, some nights, this probably really saves her nerves (but what, I wonder, do the dogs think?).

And she should not have to notice these things, because her life will go on. She needs to look forward to what her life can still be. She's got a great job; it deserves her best. And she has many years ahead of her.

She can't, and should not pare her outlook down to a grim finality.

For her, American Idol is important. It should be; the songs move her, and they speak to her heart.

To me they're noise, manufactured emotion. With very few exceptions, they have nothing to do with me, no reference points that fit my life. I've lost that meaning, and see things through a lens that only allows the highest contrasts.

Life.

And death.

But I'm wrong. My outlook is flawed.

It's me that's leaving. And to impose upon my wife the viewpoint that's been through a refiners' fire of pain is unfair.

The plain fact is that at some point, the caregiving spouse has to begin a process of dissociation...to survive.

I don't want Barbara to be broken by my death, and sure as hell don't want this process to linger. I want her to have a normal life,after I'm dead, to find a guy she can hike with, and who'll be able to stand with her in church and sing, someone who can laugh and linger over coffee and who doesn't see every calendar as marking an inexorable slide.

I don't want her life to become a memorial to mine.

You can't live in someone else's Gethsemane. You can pray with them (and not fall asleep). You can stand at the foot of the Cross. You can anoint the body with oil...but you can't walk the Green Mile.

And the caregiver has to step away from Love, or be pulled beneath the waves as the ship goes down.

And I think that is enough. I'm in too much pain to write more.

If you can, please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.

Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links (they're 99 cents each). And if you'd like a free PDF, please email me at tempusfugit02 (at) gmail (dot) com, and I'll gladly send them





64 comments:

  1. Praying for you and Barbara, brother! We can always stay awake with each other during Gesthemane--profound words. That's the best we can do sometimes, but it is so important.

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    1. Anita, thank you...that is indeed the most important and valued thing. Words can be wrong, acts of service can fulfill a well-intentioned but wrong need. But presence is always wonderful. It is so hard to be alone.

      Thank you so much for YOUR presence here!

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  2. We each have our own Gethsemane to face and hopefully we'll encourage and hold each others arms up when ours fail and we don't think we can go on until God's appointed time for us to depart for the heavenly place. We may not always stay awake after all Jesus's closest friends couldn't but God does seems to wake many of us from our slumber with you and Barbara on our minds and in our hearts.

    Lord Jesus be with Andrew and with Barbara love them both as only you can through this hard thing they are doing. Ease Andrew's pain, give him rest. Give Barbara strength as his caregiver, and lover. Give her the strength she'll need to face the days ahead without him. Thank you for the privilege of knowing them through this crazy thing called the world wide web. Thank you for Jesus who bore more pain than even Andrew is dealing with now and more than he will ever face, even on his worst days. In His name Amen

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    1. Christy, thank you for this lovely, touching message...and especially for the grace-filled prayer. The past few days have been hellish...but you have given us the balm of Heaven.

      Thank you so much for this!

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  3. Crying and praying for yall when I read this. I must say I am so thankful for Slvyia and that God has a specific purpose for you and that He is not done with you yet. Remember you are loved by all of your fmf friends and when He is ready to take you home you will be missed dearly!!

    your fmf neighbor parked at number 8 this week

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    1. Miranda, you made me tear up, too. Facing this (and especially the recent weeks which have been a downhill toboggan)...I could not imagine them without the love and support from the FMF community.

      And this is something that makes me determined to stay as long as I can. I have a home here, and it's worth the pain to enjoy it.

      No contest!

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  4. Oh boy. We definitely each have our own Gethsemane and we can't walk the same paths but we sure can pray and hold each other up! Prayers for you, Andrew!

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    1. Carol, thank you so much for the prayers. They are really the only thing sustaining me now. It's bad, but the received prayers turn the pain to purpose, and love.

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  5. Thinking of you, Andrew. May God give you rest and relief from your pain and suffering.

    Lynette

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    1. Thank you so much, Lynette! The relief does come, not from cessation of symptoms, but in the small joys that I can enjoy, gifted by Him, and the intentionality of enjoyment thus encouraged.

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  6. Andrew, my heart is aching for you both. We each do face our own Gethsemane. We each come to terms with the things that happen to those we love most in this world. You are a sensitive husband. I just don't have words right now. But I have prayers. And they continue to go upward on your behalf my friend.

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    1. Jeanne, you do have words, and their love and grace fill our hearts here. Thank you so much for them, and for the prayers!

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  7. Andrew, my heart is breaking for you both too. This is so so hard. I remember a pastor saying to me once, funerals are for the loving so they can process the death of the one they love." I think there is so much truth in that. We lbs you. And are with you.

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    1. Tara, I've heard the same thing about funerals...and I agree that it's very true.

      This community is one of the very best things that ever happened to me...right up there with finding Jesus, and finding Barbara.

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  8. Wow. I'm not posting. In honor of sin entering the world, I've been experiencing a mild version of your day. Not puking blood, but good fun with stomach cramps from the illness... And I was praying for you. I'm a wimp when it comes to pain.
    The not being able to breathe...somehow illness draws us closer to heaven. So grateful for every breath you share with us, Andrew. But today? I'm wanting your release. The well done. And somehow I would have true joy knowing that the retching is done.
    Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
    That saved a (retch) like me...
    I pondered that today. Instead of wretch.

    God saves the putrid mortal and bestows His holiness upon us. We are called sons and daughters. I'm so happy you love Him, because it means you are an eternal friend! Can't wait to hug you when we are both eternally restored!
    -Tammy

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    1. We are eternal friends. Retching and Wretched. xo

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    2. Oh, Tammy and Susan...I'm so sorry you're both feeling bad! Barbara has a cold - a nasty one - and I'm something of a caregiver today. Quite a switch.

      Tammy, I'll have to admit that there have been times recently - and especially since I posted this - that release would have been nice. Right now, for instance, is literally ugly. Have a swelling under the right margin of the ribs that looks like I've swallowed a volleyball.

      But there is work yet to do; there is the possibility that the book version of this series may have a broader appeal than I'd thought, and though I am not sure I have the strength to get done that which must be done to meet that potential...I've gotta do it.

      So I guess I'll stay awhile!

      Please, please feel better! Praying for both of you.

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    3. 😊 I appreciate the prayers. I'm feeling much better today! Perhaps I should have refrained from the honest feelings that day, but God mandated some humbling and rest in the only effective manner for workaholics: injury/illness. No, He doesn't cause it, but He allows it. I'm actually sparked with new life and creativity and a fresh sense of His leading after it all.
      Bully for you, Andrew! I'm so desperate for the sequel!!

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    4. Tammy, I am delighted you're feeling better! And please, never refrain from honesty. That's YOU, and you're so much a part of this community, this gathering in His name. Never mince words, OK?

      When the sequel's readable, I'll get it printed out and send a copy. I'm so glad you want to read it, you made my evening!

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  9. keeping both of you in prayers that His peace comes softly in the night

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    1. Cindi, thank you so much for this lovely prayer. His peace does come...at the paws of the service dogs, who stand wakeful post as I rest, and keep me comforted. They are truly His gift (and what is God spelled backwards..?).

      Thanks so much for being here.

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  10. Your name lies on the tongue of my prayers! When I awake through the night (I have an overactive bladder) I ask the Lord to give peace and rest to Andrew, Michele, and Tammy - all with great need. We all have our limits, friend. Know yours. Hugs to you smooches to Barb...

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    1. Susan, I have to say...I know the feeling.

      We do have our limits...and in a way I am learning to value mine. Does that sound weird?

      Hugs and smooches delivered...Barb has a cold, and she truly appreciates them!

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  11. Andrew, you have been in my heart and prayers, as well as your wife. These are rough times but we continue praying for you.

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    1. Maria, thank you so much.

      This journey has taught me a lot, and shown me beauty and wonders...the power of prayer, the love that comes from community, and the joy that can be found in each moment...that I wouldn't trade them back to be the old, healthy me, if I had to lay these knowings aside.

      They are of the eternal. They are treasures.

      Thank you so very much for the prayers! We truly appreciate them.

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  12. Oh Andrew, this must hurt: "The plain fact is that at some point, the caregiving spouse has to begin a process of dissociation...to survive." But know that God uses this cocooning from the trauma to protect...until in His Time He brings beauty from ashes. I often think greater the pain, the more likely the dissociation. She must love you dearly. May today be filled with little pockets of joy amongst the heartache and pain.

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    1. Anna, you're exactly right. It does hurt, yes, but it's necessary. And the beauty will rise, that beauty which will be ever-renewed in the light of His eternal presence and love!

      The pockets of joy are here. Your comment is one of them. Thank you for this.

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  13. I linked to your site from Linda's. I was by my mother's side almost constantly her final illness. She told us one day, "Dying is hard work". You seem to be experiencing this hard work in a profound way. I have spent a lot of time arranging for my final days---relieving my children of the hard decisions. Though I am not there yet---I have thought through the season you are living. I will pray for you and your wife---strength, courage & peace from here in Texas!

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    1. Hi, Lulu, I immediately recognized your name, and I'm delighted to see you here!

      It IS hard work. And it seems there's always one more thing to do...like one more trip to the lav to throw up when I thought I was DONE!

      Gotta find something to laugh at, here...

      The preparations are wise. There are not many I can make, just not up to the thought processes...but I think you're doing the right thing.

      And I sure miss Texas, and being among Texans. If Heaven looks like Lubbock, or the Hill Country...I'll be delighted.

      Thank you so much for the prayers. We truly appreciate them.

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  14. Wonderfully and beautifully written. As someone new to this series, it gives a clear picture of your heart. Praying for you right now

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    1. Kristina, thank you so much for being here, and for your prayers! We really value them, and believe in their power.

      It's been a hard series to write, but God's given me the shoulders to bear it...and in the 'hardness' has come the support of this wonderful community, without whom...well, without everyone here, I don't know how I would be able to go on. I'm being carried.

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  15. The "disassociation" comment hit home, applicable to the current situation I find myself in. There's a pain attached to the ever-widening distance caused by the changing dynamics of the relationship. However, there are still some blessed and sweet moments despite all this. It's good of you to continue to share with the community you've gathered here in this place of understanding (and pain). We only wish it was easier for you. God bless you with an extra measure of grace today. Still praying, N.

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    1. Oh, Norma! praying for you, that those blessed and sweet moments become the dominant memory, and the golden thread that will one day link your heart with one that has gone on ahead.

      I sure appreciate your kind thoughts...I wish it were easier, too, but there are moments when pain brings clarity...and humility. I value both enough that I would not 'trade back' for health if it meant losing the graces I have received.

      And thank you so much for the prayers. Tough times, but I'm being carried by stout hearts.

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  16. I pray I can go out with the honor and dignity, with the grace, that you are, my friend. You are giving Barbara, and us, such a gift. And yet, I say that knowing she might not appreciate those words. But I know you both appreciate the prayers, and I give those freely and often. Fight on Christian soldier.

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    1. June, that you for these words, that honour me so! They are a lovely gift. (And Barbara does appreciate them, very much.)

      I'll fight on...and we are very much strengthened by your prayers.

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  17. Andrew, you're the voice of authenticity. How more real can anyone get? The face of death does that to us.
    Save your energy to answer those who need to hear from you; you have words that continue to heal, exhort, challenge, encourage. Know that, my brother.
    For you and Barbara, I pray. The Holy Spirit will give me the words.

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    1. Brick, thank you...I didn't know if I would be able to get back here to answer, but God is whispering...well, shouting...DO this.

      The love I find here is a huge part of what keeps me going, and even the short interaction of which I'm now capable...it lifts my spirit, and clears my eyes for the next steps. I receive so much wisdom form everyone here!

      We truly appreciate the prayers, Brick. Thank you.

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    1. Rachel, thank you...we really appreciate the prayers. The past 48 hours have set a new record for awful...and the prayers are really needed.

      Never was I so happy to see the sunrise as I was this morning.

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  19. You are helping me endure my pain!!

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    1. Mick, your words are an honour. Thank you...and hang in there. We are praying for you.

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  20. Human love has limits -- and praise the Lord it does -- but praise Him even more that His. Love. Doesn't.

    "From everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him . . ." That's His lovingkindess. That's where we're kept, past the limits of all other things.

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    1. Stacy, yes! Exactly right. Thank you for sharing these words of grace!

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  21. I continue to lift you in prayer, Andrew. And Barnara too. Your words and your life continue to move me. You're a blessing.

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    1. Julie, we both thank you so much for the kind thoughts and words...and especially the prayers. You are a blessing to us!

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  22. What can I say except that I'm thinking of you frequently and praying for you and Barbara. Thanks for going to the effort to share your words, perspective, wisdom, and journey. It's a true gift!

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    1. Katy, thank you for this...this wonderful community is the greatest gift, and honour, that I could ever have received.

      There's so much in life that will remain undone...but because of this lovely group of friends, I'm content, and complete.

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  23. Ever since I've discovered your blog from Barbie's Weekend Whispers community, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and your spouse. Prayers always.

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    1. Carrie, thank you...the prayers are so very appreciated!

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  24. Andrew, my heart aches for you in this midnight hour of illness. Words feel so inadequate. I just want you to know you are still moving us greatly with your own achingly beautiful, hard-wrung words as we companion you both in prayer. Thinking of you as life's daily grind becomes so intolerable. May you rest better and be at peace.

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    1. Joy, thank you for this...your words are far from inadequate. Indeed, they have moved me to tears, and I am so grateful that you shared them. To become part of the thoughts and prayers of a friend in whose presence I will only stand in the next life...that is such bright honour!

      The pain will pass; the love is eternal, Joy.

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  25. beautiful, poignant, thoughts! thanks for visiting my blog again this week—sending prayers and peace and hope your way.

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    1. Leah, thank you so much...prayers and peace and hope are here...the love that brings them makes each new step worthwhile.

      And I love the wisdom your blog brings.

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  26. Andrew, your post is raw and real, and I appreciate that. Your care for your wife is beautiful. I pray that God will hold you both gently and shower mercy on you in these days. Thank you for your presence here in this place.

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    1. Leah, thank you for this...I do my best to care for Barbara. Especially today, since she has a REALLY nasty cold. As I write this she is distracting herself by watching "One Night With The King", one of her favourite films.

      We appreciate prayers so much...and we both have full faith in their power, and feel their support always.

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  27. Oh Andrew...what a brave soul you are; and what a loving husband to "try" to keep from Barbara the real pain and suffering you are feeling, and to help her to know how her future will look...your heart and love for her shows through your words.

    Tired tonight and the words just won't come; but you and Barbara are ever-still in my thoughts and prayers. {{HUGS}} to you both...

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    1. Hugs passed on to Barbara, Barbara. (I LOVED writing that!)

      Your words do me great honour, and they are a balm in what has been a very hard few days. It is night now, and I will be glad to see the sun in the morning.

      But I do intend to be here to see it. God's not done with me, here on Earth, just yet.

      Thank you so much for being here!

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  28. Wow! What an amazing dog you have, Andrew. I'm sure he's so attuned to your every movement and lack thereof. I'm not sure that a human could have that kind of vigilance. But I'm so grateful that he kept you breathing and with us for another day, my friend. I still don't like to consider the reality that you won't be with us soon. But I'm grateful for the time we have and for your constant encouraging and inspiring of us to the end. By the way, I'd just like to put in a request to Barbara. I'd love for her to be sure to let us know when you pass, Andrew. I wouldn't want your blog to fall silent and we are all left wondering. I suppose you've already talked with her about that, but wanted to put in my request just for good measure, my friend. You have my prayers and thoughts!

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    1. Beth, Syl is really a Wonder Dog. We found her dying in a vacant lot in Texas one July, and took her to the vet, thinking that she'd be euthanized...but she fought back to life.

      I'll pass on the request to Barb. She may not be able to deal with it, but I have a friend who has full access (and has posted for me when I was too ill in the past) who will definitely put up a 'final post'.

      The past days have been hard...and I am having to be caregiver to Barbara, who has a truly nasty cold...but I think God will let me see this series to completion, and to publication. He's given me the job; I rather doubt He'll take it out of my hands unfinished. At least, I hope not!

      Thank you so much for the prayers, Beth. They mean more than I can say.

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  29. Oh Andrew. My heart aches for you and for Barbara. You are continually in my thoughts and prayers.

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    1. Barbie, we so appreciate the prayers.

      But through the pain, life is still good, still worth living. Much has been taken away; but so much more has been given!

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  30. Hi Andrew, I don't know what to say. Every time I click and read I am amazed at your strength or rather the strength the Lord gives you and also Barbara.
    Keeping you in prayers.
    With much Love and Blessings from Nigeria

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    1. Ifeoma, thank you so much!

      Prayers are so needed...I am being carried on the love of my friends. I am far past being able to do this on my own.

      "Wherever two or more of you are gathered in My name..."

      I'm living that part of the Gospel, and thereby living the dream.

      I think Nigeria has a big heart, and I'm very glad you're here.

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