A Severe Mercy

My counselor reminded me yet again that G's death was a severe mercy.

In my grief and longing to see him again, it's easy to forget just how terrible the time was. that led up to his death.

The severe pain, the inability to walk, the trouble climbing the stairs, the fuzzy thoughts and complete exhaustion. Sleeping most of the day becoming not being able to sleep due to pain at the end. Narcotics not helping. Sleep medication not helping. ER visits not helping. emails to doctors not helping. Not being able to eat. Constant stomach pain. Fear. No energy to interact with and bond with P though he desperately wanted to. Pain in his legs that was ignored by his doctors. Isolation at the hospital because of COVID.

For me: I was at the end of my rope. It felt like I was banging my head against a wall trying to get answers. Watching my beloved suffer and not being able to help. Being torn between an active 6 year old boy who wanted to go outside and be constantly entertained and could tell that something was wrong but didn't understand the seriousness. None of us did. Trying to stay hopeful while we waited for information from the doctor while trying to wrap my head around the realities I was seeing. The stupid CardioMEMs machine not working and all the house G spent trying to get a reading and I spent on the phone with customer support. Trying to explain to doctors, to nurses, to UT and UN what I was seeing. That awful day he went for the lung tests and had to go through his meds list painstakingly with a mask on that made it even harder to breathe. G's anger and bad temper at the end - so much pain making him cranky and difficult. How hard it was to see him being cranky and difficult with P.

The last day of his life happened so quickly, yet there were sweet moments. Him talking to P and recording the video for P. Me holding him and crying and us telling each other that we love each other. Him telling me it was okay to do whatever I needed to do. G and UT and UN getting time together. P bringing G the LEGO treasure chest with golden hearts. G dying at home, next to the Christmas tree and in his favorite chair. No tubes! Not alone! No more intubation and waking up terrified. Linda from hospice. Having time to sit with G and talk to him and kiss him and love on him before they came to take his body. His very intense suffering lasting a short time. His mentor coming and reassuring him of the hope of Heaven.

All of the above was hard. God in his mercy cut Greg's suffering short.

"Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints". - Psalm 116:15