So, I guess I’m figuring out, because I’m smart like that, some days are harder & more poignant than others. Obviously, Thanksgiving was particularly hard. I cried more that week than I had in maybe a month, & that made me feel guilty on top of sad. Guilty, because for the month prior, I had felt pretty O.K., even happy at times. But here we are at another significant day, but maybe only to me & me alone, December 4.
It was a year ago today that I think I really started to realize my husband, my best friend, ‘my person’ who I bounced EVERY idea off (bless him for always listening), confessed every sin or social faux pas to, was freaking dying. I mean I “knew” the odds were against us before, but I had led such a Horatio Alger like life before, I truly believed we’d get the miracle I’d been praying for. I mean of course we would, right? Spoiler alert: We didn’t. I even tried to point out to God what was in it for Him, if He saved Jamey.
In prayer, I proposed that I, one who is rarely ever short for words, would go on a marketing campaign for God that would go kind of like me espousing His amazing & perfect gift of healing, so you too (person listening to my proposed marketing plan) must just keep the faith & keep believing, because God can save you too! Ha! As if God needed me to spread His miracle message!! The audacity of my dumb self-astounds even me, but still, it’s true. I thought that. But my ridiculous & small-minded project plans for ‘saving Jamey & spreading God’s miracle of healing message,’ were clearly NOT God’s plans, & it was on December 4, I started to come to terms with that.
After a series of events that I don’t fully recall right now, but I could probably look back over our Caring Bridge posts to find (but I think rereading those right now would feel like a punch in the gut) I took Jamey to the ER for the first time during our cancer journey. (Believe me, it was NOT the 1st time I took Jamey to the ER in our marriage, as there were numerous ⚽️ injuries in our early years, Supper Club zip line escapades, & a bag of broken bones over the years that had him riding shot gun on the way to whatever the closest ER wa at the time. And the fact that he was in the passenger seat also spoke volumes to his health, as he always preferred to drive versus ride. Not sure if that speaks more to my driving skills or his need to be in control, but that’s the way it was. 😂)
I remember calling one of my besties that morning to ask her where I should take him & if she concurred, we were ER worthy. Even calling her that morning broke my heart, because she answered all perky & happy thinking, I was going to ask her to go for a walk that day, not for an ER strategy, & then I hit her from left field & started sobbing into the phone. I remember Jamey putting up NO resistance to the idea of going to the ER, which was also particularly worrisome, because he was THE most stoic man I had ever met, & I expected him to balk at the idea. But what I remember even more, is Jamey not even being able to get out of the car to walk in under the portico, but instead he had to crawl to a bush to vomit 🤮from the intensity of the pain. I remember having to park in a kind of sketch spot & Jamey of course, having bigger more painful things on his mind, not noticing that I had to walk to & from said sketch location alone, & how that too was a dawning realization for me that I was losing my protector, my body guard. I remember realizing now, all I had got protection was God & His angels, and I wasn’t just thinking about that hospital visit, but for life. I was starting to realize that I was entering a new ‘alone’ phase that I really wasn’t all that familiar with. But on December 4, 2021, when I had to walk back & forth to get things, (blanket, water bottle, pillow, etc.) from my car in the dark, on my own, I did so while quoting scripture in my head, my version of holy pepper spray.
Next, I remember, that once he was discharged, he settled in to watch Alabama play (& beat GA 24 – 41,) while I tried to decorate our first ever artificial Christmas tree, because though I was fighting like hell to maintain some sort of normalcy for our girls, I did not have it in me to haul in & set up a real tree all by myself. And believe it or not, I remember pouring a strong drink that night & finishing it before one of Jamey’s oldest friends called me to check in. His innocent ‘how you doing?’ broke the damn of everything I’d been holding in for the last few month, & I let my tears & wails go. Later I learned that though I had holed myself up behind closed doors to talk to him, the whole family heard me sobbing & hollering in anguish, that ‘my husband was dying.’ Not my finest care partner moment, but alas, it happened.
The next day I awoke with not only a pounding headache, but a phone call from the same bestie checking in on me, because Jamey had called her the night before to tell her I was cracking under the pressure, which led to an epic Rage Room girl’s night out. But oh what a freaking fateful & awful night December 4 was last year, & how even remembering it now, a year later, it still stings.
But believe it or not, on this December 4, though we three Hollingsworth girls miss Jamey like mad, I am at least comforted knowing he is fully healed in heaven. He was in sooo much pain, and so much discomfort, and things only got worse from 12/4. I’ve said this before, but I still wish it: if only the dying process could be more like turning in your keys when your lease was up, & not all the pain &💩 suffering. Dying is so undignified, & it’s gut wrenching to watch a cherished loved one go through it. But again, as I’ve also said before, as awful and heart breaking as it was to walk alongside Jamey as he moved to the light, there was absolutely no other place I would have rather been than by his side. In a weird and twisted way, standing by him during that horrific journey, was truly one of the greatest privileges and honors of my life, no matter how much it hurt us both.
