I could not identify the emotions and didn't for two and a half years after he died and I finally received grief counseling. There, I learned the five stages of grief; anger, denial, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Well, William III underwent three different strains of Chemo. We spent as much quality time together as our minds and bodies would allow. We were always intimately faithful to each other, so that really came in handy when his illness didn't allow the necessary means for sexual activity. I wasn't far behind, my mind often said, “go over and ravish that man's body; crafted by God and worth every minute for sure!” We eventually resorted to the small but important things in life, such as cuddling, short kisses, and touches here and there. He was often in severe, gut wrenching pain and couldn't stand to be touched, soft or otherwise. He was so sweet and so very grateful for all of the loving care that I was able to provide for him, as he did for me, our children, family, and friends along the way. This awesome human being stood tall and kept his head held high ... Even while being on massive doses of pain killers, chemo, and silently suffering his gradual loss of personal dignity from it all.
We lost my daughter to a brain aneurism and donated her organs to the Gift of Life. My William stuck by me through all of that, while suffering and watching me suffer. But we had the support of family, friends, our church family, and the hospital staff. Now somewhere along the way our son, William IV joined the Marine Corps. My husband would pray and state that he had to see his boy graduate that elite group of Warriors. He was so proud of his boy and thanks to those on the outside looking in, money was raised for us to fly down to our son's USMC Boot Camp graduation. Once he became a newly minted US Marine, our son made his way over to us from the staggering number of parents and people on hand for their newly minted US Marine. We hugged, kissed, and literally mauled each other! After all, we had not seen our baby, our Pup in almost three months. He had been re-named “Devil Dog”, “Jar Head” ,and of course, “Marine.” My dear husband lovingly took it all in and even managed to video tape it while rubbing his chest in agony; William IV took his dad's right hand and gently placed his “Eagle , Globe and Anchor” (The USMC International Symbol—they protect us by air, land, and sea: hence the eagle, globe and anchor) in his hand. I saw something that I'd only seen one other time in our twenty plus years together, a tear rolled down his handsome face! I teased him later on when we were home and out of ceremony mode. He said now I don't have to worry about my boy, my baby anymore. He is set for life; he's got a job, benefits, and has carried the honor of my name on, as planned.
I can't tell you how good that made me feel, but I had mixed feeling because the reality of what was near came back to me. A few months passed and my Warrior was called home. I cannot even get into how that night went for us. He died in my arms, but not before telling me that he loved me and that I had been a good wife and he really appreciates my help. Take care of yourself Deborah, be happy, and even get married again ... if you want. I screamed, cried, rolled around on the floor and lapsed into my own hell!! What was I to do now? My “Pooh Bear” was gone! My, no our son, returned from his first tour in Afghanistan and literally picked me up, placed me in his Dad's now refurbished work van. He relocated me to North Carolina and has not left my side since! If he wasn't able to be with me physically, he has always been with me in spirit.
