Tuesday

 I didn't sleep well last night and woke up dreadfully depressed, which culminated in me standing in front of the bathroom mirror debating if I had the energy to wash my hair today (I did).  I also managed to do half my God Time before the groceries arrived, put those away and did the prayer portion.  I also re-read "The Value of Trials", a tract I got from Grace and Truth.  

It has a line "The immature and insensitive heart is largely unable to comfort others" which reminds me of a coworker.  I speak very little about Ron but would mention I was having a rough day, or sad on my day off, that sort of 10 second thing.  One day she blew up at me and said I "talked too much about my dead husband".  So I don't mention him to her even though she talks a lot about hers.  I think I scare her, reminded her she could lose her guy at any moment.  

If it bothers you to hear about Ron's death evaluate a few things in your life like insurance, will, etc. just to be on the cautious side.  I thank God Ron had the mortgage insurance policy which looks to pay, and the will leaving me everything so there is no drama from his family.  

So I managed to dig my way out of the depression.  I decided to have half a can of macaroni and beef for brunch.  The cats got very excited when I opened the can so I set the full, open, can on the floor.  I figured they would each (Baby Girl and Biscuit) have a sniff and then say "Meh, no thanks".  Biscuit did just that but BG began licking up the sauce.  I let her have some and then heated it up for me, let her lick out the bowl when I was done (I left her some hamburger crumbles in addition to the sauce, but no noodles.  No way does she need to eat noodles.)   She does like some people foods and is not a puker like Biscuit so I try to accommodate her now and then.  

I will say I am honestly not sure what Ron would have to say about it, though.  Would he be happy I am treating her or upset I am giving her "junk"?  I don't know.  Probably the first.  And she's a good little cat so I don't mind.  I will never forget the sight of her saying goodbye to Ron

When I think about all the ways Ron could have died, liver failure, dementia, cancer, etc. I am really glad he just dropped with minimal suffering.  It was a pretty clean, quick, way to go whatever it was.  Of course I would rather have him healthy and whole in my arms here but he was just getting worse and suffering more and more.  

I can see why the "Angel of Death" killers think they are doing people a favor by killing them because so many people do suffer terribly at the end of their lives.  That doesn't make it right but I am glad I never had the prospect of giving Ron a little "extra" morphine from hospice vs. letting him suffer.  It's hard to say what I would have done.  I hated to watch him suffer.  

To state the obvious, no, I did not kill him.  I wasn't even home when he died.  They did a full autopsy.  They even made the crematorium keep his body for weeks after they finished just in case they needed to go back.  And he looked really good except for the lividity and his lips being white, he looked very relaxed and comfortable.  But that dead weight of his arm flopping into my belly as I did CPR was something that took a while to forget.  But I did everything right, gave him his medication, fed him, bathed him, etc.  It was just his time.  

I am glad I was not there he might have made horrible noises I would have trouble forgetting.  I would have been frantic trying to "save" him.  I was, as it stood, anyway.  But he's gone and I'm still wrapping my head around that.  

It's just a hard day.