Three weeks since Charlie died
I can't believe I'm counting weeks and worrying about coming pain. Will every Monday be unbearable? He died on a Monday. How about every Friday? I buried him on Friday. Anyway, since 3:30 pm yesterday (the time I made the decision to let him go) I've been reliving the thirty hours I watched him breathe on his own (and wondered why we ever needed the ventilator) sleeping without pain, waiting for him to go. I remember his last breath. My brother had jsut stepped out of the room and I was alone with Charlie when he died.
I decided I wanted to be alone at his grave at 7:30 this evening. I made a special planter for him. I finally took the casket spray off the mound of dirt and brought it home. It was a beautiful evening, sunny and warm, birds singing. I just sat on the ground and relived his passing. It wasn't as horrific as I had thought it would be. Charlie is buried in a country churchyard. Our graves will overlook rolling Iowa farm fields for a long time I hope. There was a certain peace, I did some praying. Maybe pain is helped by doing something special. I worked hard to make his memorial service personal for us and I remember feeling uplifted that day.
In three weeks I've had several times when I thought I felt better. I'm not naive enough to know this will last, but for tonight it is enough.
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