An Update on Charlie 9/1

'How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard,' -Milne inWinnie the Pooh What's difficult for me about this time: It's hard to face that soon Charlie won't be in his body any longer. It feels so unreal. I hear my internal voice attempting to prepare me by gently repeating, 'Charlie will die soon.' I experience a deep fatigue that comes from being the primary caregiver round the clock. There is an accumulation of stress for four months in the hospital, bouncing like a billiard ball between hopefulness that he might survive the infection and despair that he would lose the fight. When he was hospitalized at two community hospitals, I couldn't trust the doctors, sensing that he was not receiving the highest quality of care. There is so much uncertainty that I am super challenged to embrace 'Don't know mind.' I am already missing the beauty that was our life together before illness struck. What's helping: This time is the hardest time I have ever gone through. But it is made a bit easier because of all of the work Charlie and I have done before this crisis hit us. One of the guidelines we adopted for our life is to DO OUR OWN WORK. We both have a good work ethic that came in handy when advancing our careers. In addition to professional development, we used that purposeful orientation to do our personal work to grow into who we could become. In teaching workshops, Charlie would frequently mention that when a crisis hits, you are at a disadvantage if you haven't done your work. You find yourself scrambling at the last minute to meet the challenge. Some things that we have done that make this huge challenge more bearable are: We both told and showed our love to each other every day for decades, and we continue to do so. We had zero tolerance for incompletions with each other and for family and friends who were dear to us. We talked things through and were unwilling to carry grudges by utilizing forgiveness. We took time to nourish bonds with those we loved. We lived a life of service, doing good works, and upleveling our skill set continuously to be able to become more effective. We saved money for retirement and are using it now. We savored our time together, cooking meals, enjoying going out to eat, traveling to exotic destinations, learning new things. We showed up to be present in those experiences. We checked in to ourselves and each other every day, which strengthened our connection. Rather than striving for perfection (which makes you crazy), we strove for excellence. We wrote vision statements, accompanied by action plans, and manifested our goals. We counted our blessings every day. These are just a few examples of what doing our work looked like for us. I am so grateful that we supported each other to be consistent with our efforts. These practices are buffering the intensity of the challenge. The visits from family and friends, phone calls, gifts, food packages, emails, and hundreds of prayers have lifted us both up. What we are facing is lightened by the abundance of love saturating us during this time. Charlie reassures me that he's clear about the choice that he has made in regard to not receiving extra-ordinary medical interventions. But still, the magnitude of this life/death decision feels overwhelming. I have found my friends to be my primary source of support. And for that, I am grateful beyond words to all of you. Your friendship and prayers are a gift, generously given, happily accepted, and deeply appreciated. Linda Bloom Leave a comment