Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.

More late night ramblings.

My heart hurts so so bad. I didn't think it was possible. I probably shouldn't be surprised when it gets even worse. I called her auntie down in Florida to break the hospice news. She told me her, her daughter, granddaughter, and another aunt are on a plane coming up tonight.  It was already booked before I called.  They knew.  No one told them.

The line between her dreaming and reality are blurring, mostly due to the painkillers, I suspect.  It is just another thing that is hard to deal with.  This is tearing me apart.  If we didn't have the support of family and friends (and even strangers), I'd likely have collapsed already.  The helpless, grief-filled haze I'm in seems like a zero visibility fog in a cornfield.  I cannot find my way out.  Sure there's a few minutes or hours when visitors are over when jokes are had and whatnot, but a split second later I'm thinking of something that drops me right back in the middle of that cornfield.

I'm strong when she's alert, I'm a mess when she isn't.  Still, I tell her I'm a mess when she's sleeping and she thanks me for my honesty and tells me I'll be ok.

The Lymphedema is crazy.  Her left leg is even bigger than this morning.  I don't know what the hell is happening.  I don't know how much the skin can stretch.  I don't know so much about what is happening, and I don't have a clue what still awaits.

And that scares the shit out of me.