[IRENE FROM TAMPA]

From Irene's Caring Bridge website:

Tomorrow Irene comes back home....to a spotlessly clean house. The girls, Irene's brother Paul, his Soul Mate Liz and the irrepressible Erma cleaned this house of dust of the ages. The dust of some dinosaur fossils were found...just before being sucked up into the vacuum cleaner!

Truly : they deserve serious praise for their hard, extensive work. For the honor they paid Irene.

Michele & I met with a Hospice representative at the hospital in the afternoon and arrangements were put into motion. Necessary equipment will be delivered before noon - then sometime in the afternoon I'll be dropped at the hospital so I can ride with her back home. She's coming home.

I found loading up the car with things from Irene's hospital room difficult. Over the years I'd wheeled cartloads of flowers,
clothes in plastic bags, luggage & medical supplies...from many of Irene's hospital rooms, but something was different this time...something undefined.

Until it hit me: it was the flowers.

These flowers would be different. Irene wouldnt be getting well this time and "suggesting"where I should plant them. Irene wouldn't be healing and tending to them months after...or being certain I did. Irene wouldn't be there to put cuttings into a table top vase and light up the room. It was the flowers. These flowers had no home and I found myself crying while filling my car with them.

There's so many things about this turmoil that simply destroy me. I see others struggle as well...but sense they have a better grip and I'm both puzzled and jealous. I know I'm suppose to find peace...find understanding in that she'll be in a better place...at rest...when this war finally ends...but my heart and mind simply aren't on the same page. They cant find accord...and I cant find peace.

Before leave leaving Irene for the night, I spoke to her.
The nurses had recently roused her...causing her to open her eyes. Andrea spoke to her Mother lovingly and Irene's face relaxed into peace fullness...her eyes closed contentedly as she listened. Then I told her how much I loved her and asked her to have sweet dreams: "to dream of Italy...to remember
Cortona...Kay & Ed....Fernando & Giovanna...dream sweet dreams darling...remember Italy." A tear formed under her eye which Andrea wiped away. I'll always remember that.

Before leaving the room I stopped and returned. Pulling some paper from my suitcase, found the prayer: Stay with me Lord - and read it to her. If she should pass during the night...if should she should pass in my absence...I wanted my last words to her to bring her comfort.

Although I've never felt such anquish before...and I hope never to again...I want to do this right. I need to do this right. I want her to know I love her...and that it was done right.


John


ps - theres some new photos in the album.