I’m Going Now
3rd Jan 2010
He came in the middle of the night to say goodbye. The ward was in darkness – all were asleep, apart from me watching over Mrs D.
He stroked her hand gently and softly called her name – and as if returning from a great distance, she responded to his call, shaking off the morphine-induced slumber that gave her blessed relief from the pain.
I left them alone while I went to make coffee – trying to remember in the maze of corridors where was the kitchen I had been shown on my guided tour of the hospice that morning after Mrs D had been admitted.
Before he left, we talked quietly – two men who had loved Mrs D.
With misty eyes, he thanked me for phoning him and promised to be at the funeral.
Later, I held her in my arms as she spoke her last words –
‘I’m going now. Thank you. For everything’
I held her a few moments longer, letting the tears freely fall, before going in search of a nurse to tell them the best part of me had died.
Life with Mrs D 
[originally posted 25th Feb 2010]
I’ve just clicked ‘leave a comment’, but now feel unable to do so. But I’ll try….
Anita, I never met you; but I feel as if I have held your hand and said ‘goodbye’ as well.
Thank you, Duncan.
[originally posted 26th Feb 2010]
I have struggled for weeks to write this post but the words just wouldn’t come. Every time I sat down at the keyboard and thought back to these last few moments, the tears just started flowing anew and I had to give up.
There are two more posts to be written – her funeral, and one after. But I can’t bring myself to start writing these – partly because it’s too painful, but also because once they are done that is the end of the story of our life together and I am not yet ready to close that book.
Duncan, I read this daily thinking about how on earth you got through this. I was actually dreading reading this part too and wondering how do you say goodbye to the person you’ve spent your life loving, growing with or raising your kids with.
Your life together will be over in one way only. All the memories of what you did during your lives , friends you shared good times with and Christmases spent with families will stay with you always. Nothing will ever end that. The best part of you may have passed away but Anita must have been truly courageous woman to go through all of that. Loon used to keep me informed as I didn’t read your blog much at that stage but was saddened that she was so close to the end.
Take your time with the next part, just write it when you’re ready, no need to close that book ever.
It’s true, Ann, what you say about the memories – and I will treasure these always.
I wrote the final two posts for this blog yesterday
I shall describe Anita’s funeral in Wednesday’s post. Then there will be one other – the last post in this blog – on Friday.
xxxxxx
Duncan….even though I knew it was coming, when I saw the title of this post my heart did a flip and I got goosebumps while reading it through. You both were blessed with finding true love, something only a select few get to experience and appreciate. Just feel lucky you both got to spend so much time together, and as Ann mentioned, all the memories will be with you forever. Cherish them every day.
Thanks, Jill
I shall be sharing some of those memories – with all who have been reading this blog – in tomorrow’s post
Lovely and so sad. I can’t add to what has already been said except to offer continued condolences.
Anita was a fine lady and you have good and solid memories of her and you two for the future. Excellent writing BTW…
I deeply appreciate you being able to share this with me. I am glad that I didn’t discover it until now. It would’ve destroyed me when it happened as I struggled through my own health issues. But now the sweet-sad resonance of this account gives me strength and hope. May God Bless…