I woke up this morning and could see that it was snowing outside. I hate snow. My hatred for snow still didn't mask the internal upset I felt at one thing. It's been a year.
One year ago today, Caroline passed away.
At first, it was easier to let her go. I say that because her last hours with us were excruciating. She was in so much obvious pain and discomfort that it was torturous to see. They had guaranteed us that she still had a long ways to go. This was not how the disease worked. She would be suffering for a lot longer. We actually questioned the doctors, "How can it get worse than this!?" They once again confirmed that this was just a bad day. She had a lot more coming her way.
For the first time since her diagnosis, she was unable to shelter us from the nastiness of her fate. She was always so strong in hiding the pain and doing her best to not let us see her suffering. She wanted us to remember the good times, always, and she wanted us to only have good memories of her.
This morning last year was brutal. We don't talk about it much. I remember calling Amy after talking to the doctors and telling her to make sure she was going to be on her way, because, even though they said longer, we just felt that it couldn't be true.
After having an intense and non-stop nosebleed for over 24 hours, the Hospice staff went in to help her clean-up in the morning. Through what had to be misery, she was smiling and trying to make light of what 'could be worse.' People were walking by her room and talking about how there was a party going on in their room. The laughter could be heard in the hallway.... because that was Caroline. She always cared about others first. She was pro at putting the pain aside to help out those around her.
My sister Steph, however, had seen the change through the night before. She saw the inability to hide the pain anymore. Even with meds, it was clear that Caroline was suffering. In her moments of utter tiredness and frustration at the bleeding nose, she was unable to hide behind her smiles, even though she wanted. Steph was scared and she knew. She knew that it had to be close. Caroline had wished for few things with regards to her death. We knew that one of her biggest fears was losing her mental state. Her next biggest was for us to see her suffering long and remembering her like that. We are so thankful that she was able to keep her positive mental state until the end.
After the staff got her back to her bed, they set up to try to get her comfortable and able to rest. They upped her meds, and she finally seemed more comfortable, yet still so irritated. It is so incredibly hard to see a loved one be agitated without relief, even while almost in a medicated sleep. We decided to let her rest.
The last thing that I know she heard me say to her was 'You can rest now, but only if you dream about being back in Europe.' With that, she gave me the last smile that I would receive from her. It was big and with her eyes closed, but it was meant for me.
Seven years previous, we would have just been preparing for our own travels to Europe - Germany, to be more exact. I have never seen someone more alive than Caroline when she travelled. The whole trip while gone, her eyes were wide as a baby learning all about life. The excitement and joy would shine through. It gave her so much more life just to be able to travel. The day before she passed, one of her friends came and looked at the pictures of her most recent trip to Europe. It had given her so much joy to relive that trip, but it exhausted her. Her body was giving up.
Caroline's last day is one of importance, because it helps to remind me that I didn't want to keep her here in so much pain - that it would be better to let her go and be at peace than to selfishly keep her here. However, I must say that there are times when I don't care. I just want to be able to have a chat with her. I just want to give her a hug. I just want to see her walk into my house again and have the kids tackle her with hugs. I want to see Magglio wag his tail almost off of his body because he is so excited to see her at the door. I just want to see her live. I still feel like she was robbed of her hopes and dreams. It's the selfishness of me being left behind. It is hard to always think about her having a better time in Heaven.
There are many unpleasant memories from that last day. Many that I will never share. Some that I shared with my own mom only recently. It was horrible. The staff at Hospice did an amazing job in sheltering us from the work and trying to provide us with as much quality time as we could with her.
So, as this one year mark will come and go, please take time today to remember Caroline and how amazing she was. Remember that she lived and she would want us to do the same. Thank God for sparing her of what was still to come.
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