Death And Dying For The One I Loved

The Love Of My Life To The End

Death and Dying for the one I loved.

I do not include the lovely events of our 62 years together in this writing. This material is about the last few years while Carol was contending with her heart problems.

I could choose a different title for our life together, but it would be like this: "60 years of living together plus about two years of dying together."

I have to begin with a quotation from Ecclesiastes 3:1, 2: 1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: 2 a time to be born and a time to die,

I also want this to be known. Proverbs 18:22: He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.

God brought Carol to me to find. Both verses fit together in our lives, especially in the last two or three years.

If we dissected our time together, it might be written like this: "Sixty years of living plus two years of dying."

I should have seen what was going on, but I didn't have medical knowledge. Before the significant problems, we liked to ride our bicycles together. In time, though, Carol complained of her legs, mostly her upper legs, bothering her. They just seemed too heavy to peddle. Also, she could not walk as fast as usual on one vacation trip. She just tagged along as quickly as she could. Again, it was her legs that seemed to not work as usual. Still, later, she had a problem using the vacuum cleaner. She couldn't push it around to do the work. To solve this, I just vacuumed the floors.

In time, the doctors came up with the problem and a solution. She needed heart surgery, an open heart surgery.

This time was an emotion-filled time for us. Will it work? Will it help?

Recovery was lengthy, so we had no clue about the effectiveness of the surgery.

In time, the surgery healed, and she could be on her feet again but not doing more than the doctors stated.

The surgery did not rectify the problems; it only helped to some degree, so life continued.

In 2005, we went back to Guide Rock, Nebraska, to the fiftieth anniversary of the graduation of the class of 1955. That is the class she went to school with for eleven of the twelve years. She just took it easy but managed it and enjoyed the reunion time with those she had gone to school with so many years ago. She noted that a few of her classmates were not able to make it, and some had already passed away.

Retired from teaching at CCS Crossroads Christian School) at age 71. 1938 plus 71 = 2009

She was the director of Crossroads Food Bank for 13 years. She spent the final two years training Linda S.

2009 + 13 years = 2022 Passed away Nov. 2, 2023

The doctors scheduled Carol to have a special procedure at OHSU Hospital on Nov. 20, 2020. She entered the hospital about one month earlier for the doctors to prepare her body's health for the procedure. One valve procedure was successful, but the other valve was not successful. This caused her legs and other body areas to collect fluid that was not circulated by the heart. The valves didn't keep the blood that came to it. From this time on, she continued to have fluid collect in various parts of her body. The legs were the most painful for her. Her lower legs would swell up with water, and finally, the pores would open, and the fluid would flow out.

The home Care Nurses would try to keep tight wrappings on her leg below the knees. Carol could not tolerate the tightness of the wrappings and would try to undo them. Usually, this caused more pressure on her legs and, therefore, more pain. Many times, it seemed, she would start to unwrap them in the bathroom, or if no one were in the room where she was, she would sit in her chair and unwrap them.

I think because of the pain, she did not mentally know she was unwrapping them. When asked who unwrapped your legs, she would reply, "I don't know." I don't think she knew; she was causing more pain and misery for herself.

From the time of this procedure at OHSU in 2020 until her death on Nov. 2, 2023, she was usually in some pain. This is the time I would like to express my thoughts.

Our car was the principal place to escape from the pain she knew was "in her chair.” But there were some problems here also. It had got so she could not sleep in her bed. Most of the time, if she went to bed, she would be up (in less than an hour) and back in her chair. Even though there was pain in her chair, there was also safety. Much of the time, so that I could hear her, I would sleep on the couch near her. At about 3:30 AM, she would need to walk with the walker to the bathroom. I set the alarm on my phone for this time so I could be awake if she needed help. Most of the time, she would not need help, but it was assuring for me when I was awake and knew she was back in her chair. (Just a comment here. As I remember it, there were only two times I needed to have David come in and help her stand up to her walker. The last one was the night before I called the ambulance for the last time. She showed herself to be strong and determined to be independent.)

I want to get back to our car. It was the safe place to be as an escape from the pain in her chair.

Often, we would go for short drives for no real reason except to get out of the house and away from the chair. They didn't have to be a long drive in time or distance. Getting out was a relief for her. Much of the time, as I was carefully helping her down the ramp towards the car, I had no idea where I would be going. The thought just had to come to me and we went.

Some places we went were to the first house we lived in when we moved to the Portland area. This was the Milwaukie house. As we slowly drove by, I pointed out things she might remember, like the tree in front of the house. She didn't remember much about it but did not complain as she was not in her chair. I used to collect the driftwood from the Milwaukie Boat ramp area. We had a wood-burning stove for heat there. Time erases some memories. Then we drove to the river park where the Clackamas River pours into the Willamette River. There were always ducks and geese there to watch.

Other places were more familiar to her. We drove to the church building, which housed the school where she taught for 31 years. Those were her private memories that passed through her thoughts. At the same place was the food bank, where she was the director for about 13 years after she retired from teaching. She was the food bank director when she heard about the school closing. This announcement brought actual pain to her heart when it happened. All memories are not pleasant.

Some places, like the Dairy Queen, engender pleasant memories. We like the ice cream with the Butterfinger candy bars broken up into it. (You will remember its name.) She would always get the small size, but even then, I sometimes had to help her finish it. We would sit in the parking lot and watch the sun go down.

The next place is where she would often ask to go. This place was Blue Lake Park. This area was always relaxing and away from "the chair" where the pain was. I purchased a year pass so I wouldn't have to pay the $5 each time we went. They closed the park for some remodeling, so we didn't get to use it all up. It was the place we could sit and look and listen. She always wanted me to see if there was a parking spot by the "splash pad." There was always the possibility there would be people to watch, kids in the water, and maybe even a goose or two wandering around. And, of course, there were squirrels to see.

While watching the kids, I am sure she was thinking, "I wonder what grade they would be in." While teaching at Crossroads, she taught all grades from kindergarten through sixth grade. We could also follow the seasons as they came and went. In the spring, the trees that lined the drive produced purple blossoms. Two weeks later, we could see them start to fall. The boys liked to be able to reach a limb and shake it to see the blossoms float away in the breeze. The roadway would be covered with their beauty in two or three weeks. All of this to enjoy being together, just looking and being together. But if I had asked her, she would have quietly said, "It is to be away from home where the chair and the pain is just waiting for me."

I have to quit here since I have tears coming to my eyes.

I enjoyed helping her with her meals. Breakfast was always the same: coffee, a soft fried egg on buttered toast with some jelly on her egg. Marmalade or Strawberry were her favorites. After a while, we had Meals on Wheels delivered. Instead of one of these, she would want an old favorite I had started for her. It consisted of a slice of buttered bread covered with a thick layer of peanut butter with a helping of cream cheese. To top it off, she enjoyed a helping of one of the jellies. She would eat this when nothing else sounded good to her.

Besides the pain in her legs, she had two other difficult worries (pains) that came to her mind. One was being sent to a nursing home to live. I eased her mind on this as I told her I had never thought of this and that as long as I could take care of her at home, a nursing home was out of the question.

The other pain she had was the thought of me having to do so much to care for her. She kept saying, “I am so sorry I am so much trouble for you.” Hearing that caused me a hidden pain, but God had already taken care of it. I could always truthfully say, “You are not a problem. It is a joy to do what I do.” I was thankful that God had put that joy in my heart. I didn’t just manufacture it or fake it. It was my joy. And tears again come to my eyes as I write this.

Many times, in her pain, she wondered why God didn’t just let her die. At these times, we would talk about the verse that mentioned there was a time to be born and a time to die. We couldn’t control the time we were to be born, and God didn’t want us to try to control the time we would die. I tried to remember to ask her how the pain was so she had enough Tylenol to control the pain. It was always better for us to try to control the pain rather than have to knock the pain down to more manageable levels.

At times in the evenings, I would have my phone read some of the Psalms to us, but she also wanted me to spend some time with my writing on the computer.

Now, in my day-to-day life and living, I try to mention Carol and her death to others. At these times, tears come to my eyes, but that is for my healing.

6/21/2024

Larry E. Whittington

I am publishing this piece on 10/29/2024, my 87th birthday. November 2 will soon be here and I will again think of her. God bless all who read, especially those with tears in their eyes. What shall I wipe my eyes with?