When life is filled with change, we must change with life.  Some of those life changes are easier to adapt to than others.  Some have a stronger impact that others.  Some are completely life altering.  The year 2020 is over 75% complete and still throwing out surprise after surprise.  Most of the events that happened during this past year to change life as we know it, have affected all of us.  We have had weather events, riots and civil unrest, and a world wide pandemic.  This has been a year like no other.  While all these things are important, have far-reaching effects, and will be the topics of future posts, today I am focusing on a change that is much more personal; the death of my partner, best friend, and husband of almost 37 years.  It has taken me months to get to the point that I can write about the first few months of 2020.  It was filled with events that you are never prepared for, no matter how prepared you convince yourself that you are.  This post will be a bit raw, a bit tender, and at times downright mushy….but after 37 years together, not only do I need to write about my late husband, but he deserves a tribute for the effects he had on some many lives.  So buckle up, and ride with me on the personal roller coaster I have been on during 2020.

I would like to say it all started in January 2020, but the reality is that it started a few years ago.  Chronic illness takes time to develop into a terminal illness.  Over time, the body changes, wears out, and can no longer overcome the damage being done.  It is during the “chronic days” that we should be more alert to medical issues we can control.  But it seems to be human nature to ignore what we “know” and continue to live the way we want to.  At least, that was the way Larry looked at things.  He often said he would rather live fewer days doing what he wanted, than to live more days not getting to do what he enjoyed.  I lived that philosphy to the very end.  He enjoyed almost every day he lived to the fullest.  But it was late January that reality struck us all, and we began the journey of saying good bye to the man that had lead us all through life for almost 40 years.

Larry was a type 2 diabetic.  You would never have known it, mostly because he denied it.  In doing so, he did not monitor his blood sugar, did not watch what he ate, nor remain compliant with medications for more than a few years at a time.  While this made each day more enjoyable for him, it took a toll on his body.  He had cataracts removed, blood pressures that were too high, suffered a stroke at an age that was much too young, and took a toll on his kidneys.  I found out in January that his kidney function was 8 (dialysis is recommended at a minimum of 15).  His prognosis was 90 days if he continued to refuse dialysis.  He never wavered, for him dialysis was not an option he would consider. He held fast to the belief that it was better to live each day doing what he wanted and felt like doing, than to be tied to a machine daily, or multiple days a week.  He also has a strong aversion….no, let’s be honest, he was TERRIFIED of needles, making the thought of dialysis more dreadful for him that it might be for others.  Evening knowing what it meant to refuse treatment, I supported his decision.  We contacted Hospice and proceeded to try to make each day he had left as enjoyable and comfortable as possible.  He lived 62 days.  When he took his last breath, it was just he and I, sitting in our bedroom, with me holding his hand.  A tear slid down each of our cheeks as he took his last breath and left this world.  It still feels surreal. 

This was by far the most difficult, emotion filled day of my life.  It was difficult when I lost grandparents, in-laws, and my own Dad.  But nothing compared to the emptiness that is still felt on a daily basis.  I was married longer than I was not, almost twice as long, actually.  But we all know that life goes on, and this year life has been filled so full of challenges, there has been absolutely no time for me to drown in self pity.  I have had to move forward, make decisions regarding what priorities need to be addressed on the Homestead (we had been a bit neglectful while dealing with Larry’s health issues), make a decision about my career and how to juggle a full time job with Homesteading responsibilities, and learn to deal with everyday life decisions on my own.  I still find myself picking up the phone while I’m on shift to remind him to do something or ask a question.  I still expect to see him sitting in his chair, or stoking the fire when I come home early in the morning after an ambulance shift.  I am still not used to just making a decision and not discussing each detail with him.  But it is real.  He is gone from this earth, gone from day to day life, but the affects of having him my life will be with me each day moving forward.  He made me strong.  He made me independent.  He made me love the life we have lived.  He instilled in me a desire to keep teaching ways to be self-sufficient.  So that is exactly what I plan to do.  Move forward.  Keep teaching. Keep living. Keep loving every day.

Larry has been called “Papa” in every post from the beginning of our blog and website.  His time with his family, and especially his grandchildren was always a highlight.  He loved to spend time with them, teach them things, and encourage them to do their best.  There were times he was more harsh than any of us understood, but it came down to the fact that he always wanted each of us to do our best and he felt that would only happen if attention was paid to detail, we listened more than we talked, and always we tried again if things didn’t work out the first time.  These lessons will always be remembered by those whose lives he touched.  Living a life with Larry made us all stronger and prepared us for these days, even when we didn’t realize that was what life was preparing us for.  Like I said before, he is gone, but is absolutely not forgotten.