Sleep

He hadn't slept properly for weeks. He was exhausted but even when his eyelids drooped and he could barely speak with tiredness, still his body wouldn't let him rest. His body was fighting and wouldn't relent even for a few hours. For six weeks sleep had been an obsession. If only he could sleep then he would feel a little better. The medical team tried so many things but nothing helped.

I like to imagine that he felt himself finally falling asleep and felt relaxed and at peace.

That night I helped him brush his teeth and put his pajamas on. We had little routines with the wheelchair and the oxygen. It was tough but we were managing without the nurses. The day had been busy with friends to visit and the boys had been in for supper.

I tucked him up in bed, kissed him and told him I loved him and would see him in the morning.

I then left to pick up the kids from their activities and have supper with my sister. We were working out how to coordinate the kids over the next few days to allow me to spend some night at the hospice.

The phone rang. I couldn't hear so they called me back. Even as I waited for them to ring back I didn't know.

The nurse asked me if I'd known how poorly he was. I stammered a nonsensical response.
I took a deep breath,

'Do you need me to come in?'

She told me that he had already passed.

I sank to the floor unable to trust my legs.

'Was he by himself?'

'Yes'

She told me he'd given pain scores and taken his medication ten minutes before. He had a buzzer by his hand.

Throughout this journey I had promised J he wouldn't be alone.
We had both been haunted by a newspaper article in which a husband wrote about not being able to face being with his wife at the end. I promised ardently and honestly that I would be there.

I have faced death before. I held my mother's hand as she died.

I wanted so desperately to be with him.

Earlier that day J's doctor told me that they were usually very good at knowing when the end was coming and that family usually made it in time.

Usually.

She also warned me that with young people especially they can take you by surprise. She thought that we perhaps had a week, maybe less. The doctor gave me the best advice she could.

I hope that he felt himself falling asleep. I hope he didn't know that he was dying in that moment and that he was alone.

I drove silently through the empty streets to my love.

He lay in the same bed, now free of tubes and wires, with a sprig of heather on his pillow.

I spoke calmly to the nurses then as the door closed the keening started

'I wanted to be with you. I love you'

I held him, he was still warm.

I sat with my darling and I phoned his aunts and mother.

With the nurses help I packed up everything we had brought to make his room feel homely. Photos, books, flowers, fairy lights as it was nearly Christmas.

I kissed him one last time. I packed his things into the boot of our car and I drove home alone.

I hope he felt that he was falling asleep. I hope he felt surrounded and held by my love for him.