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Thanks so much to all condolences.

I have, by now, lived every day of a week without him. A normal day that is, not the frantic funeral and viewing days or the foggy days after his death.

Today is the last such day, this Sunday that I cook, watch the Sunday talk shows and work this thread.

I carefully assessed each day, how it will change without Billy.

I used to go to the grocery store on Weds. for example. Well I don’t need to even much go to the grocery store save for milk and stuff. I’m the sort that goes to BJ’s and buys in quantity. Which takes care of pets.

On Thursday nights I go to choir practice. Billy always took care of the dog those nights, made sure the light was on. I left the dog alone in the house, nervously. I lock all the doors at night, something I could always feel safe that Billy did faithfully. Had to lower a few blinds.

I’m adjusting, I’ll be ok.

He was determined, just determined, to never be put in a hospital again. Yes I had the medical people on the phone with me much of the day. Billy said no to doctor office visit, no to ambulance, no to any oxygen which they were going to SEND DIRECTLY TO MY HOUSE!

I’m not going to say I didn’t know how bad it was. But I didn’t think it was so close. It wasn’t until a fretful weekend that had me feeding him Ensure and running to drug store for Mucinex cause I thought he had a cold.

He knew what was happening. He handled it well.

The evening before the morning I found him gone, I finally went to bed, exhausted. I knew he was dying, in fact I told him he was dying.

“We shouldn’t talk about this,” was his response.

I asked him if he wanted to die at home. “YES” he shouted, shouting with a whisper as he could barely breathe.

I was tempted...so tempted. It was torture. I couldn’t call his family....they knew not a thing. What could they do? Why add to their distant torment? My daughter was with me...via telephone...that whole day. And the medicos.

The night I left him he still knew my name and who I was. He was getting dates mixed up and he didn’t know the dog’s name. He was fading, I knew it. I feared more than anything that he would totally lose his mind, that he wouldn’t know who I was, who he was.

It’s one thing for HIM to refuse medical aid. But with a lost mind I’d then be in charge. I’m just not so sure I could have avoided calling for help.

He bid me good night, said to stop worrying, I was nagging him. He told me he loved me and would see me in the morning.

I said my prayers that night. I told my God that I didn’t think I could go through another day like today.

It is said that God does not give us more than we can bear. I found Billy dead the next morning at 5:30 am.

He looked peaceful, he appeared to have been in no pain.

Anyway....that’s the end of it.

And don’t go calling me “special” or wonderful or exceptional.

All of you take a long look at that person you most love in life. Doesn’t have to be a spouse though that’s more appropriate. Consider if they were suffering from lungs that didn’t work...consider your beloved was making the correct decision for them, indeed as most of us would make.

Every one of you would do the same thing and so did I. I’m not particularly special but I did pass the test.

It was tough but he smiles down on me as he finally breathes cool, clean air denied him the last few months here on earth.

I’ll be okay.