“I feel like I’m riding a tricycle in a sea of molasses.”… Yes, that was Orson Welles.
November 30th, 2021 my husband died to this life. I was there, just barely. I had gone home to get a little sleep; a call came around 12 midnight, it was our son telling me I needed to get back down there ASAP, that he was going soon. I was so tired. So very tired from the two years of his illness and I was not ready for this. (Are we ever?) All the way down to the Hospice center I could feel that phrase of Orson Welles. This was all happening in slow motion as the pain of it all ate at me.
I walked into his room. I took his hand and said his name… “I’m here!” He took a deep breath, then one more not so deep, and he was gone. But I didn’t figure that out as I continued to talk to him about our life together, our love for each other, anything that I could think of to say. Then mid-sentence I stopped, rose from my chair and starred at him. Our son asked if he should get the nurse. She came in and took his pulse; she confirmed that he had left his body.
As the nurse went into action what what was to happen next I left the room in a haze of grief and fatigue. What just happened? Did I say I love you? Did I do the right thing those last days. I couldn’t remember anything… Just fatigue and pain. Lots and lots of pain. Yet I couldn’t cry. I felt like I was riding a tricycle in a sea of molasses. Perfect description, Mr. Wells. Just perfect.
Be well. Be Happy. Best…
Carolyn Thomas Temple