My life as I've known it is over. It has been over for some time now. To be exact it was 6 months, 5 days and 17 hours ago that it ended. On January 10th the doctor told me that my wife's lungs were too badly damaged by a rare side effect of her cancer treatments and there was nothing we could do. She had been on a ventilator for just shy of two weeks. Her lungs were failing, tearing apart between the scar tissue. At that point I had two options: I could wait for the inevitable crash from which she could not recover, or I could have the medical team wake her up, tell her this latest development, and take her off the machine for her to face her end. The former was tempting, the "easy way out" that only asked that I do nothing. The latter required me to take responsibility upon myself for her last moments. I knew which she wanted. I woke her up.
So for half a year I've been a widower. Technically single, but in mourning. Whether I will or nil I now have a new life infront of me. I never wanted this. I never wanted this freedom. I was bound by a soft gold band around my finger as surely as it was a steel chain. It bound me to the one I loved and the life we had together. 6 months ago that sacred band became a hunk of worthless gold. I still put it on each day. I promised myself I'd do that for a year and a day as I mourn her.
I've decided to start blogging this second half of that year. Not for anyone's benefit other than my own, really. It will hopefully relieve some of my faithful friends on whom I've been dumping heavy text messages at odd hours. Right now it is 5:21 in the morning. I haven't slept since I got up around noon. This will be the third all-nighter this week. It's been a bad week for that. A week ago Friday was the 1 year from the start of her treatments. Today is the 1 year from when she had her "Cue Ball Party" as she called the head-shaving day she invited all her friends to. So it's been a week for memories.
Nothing left for it but to get dressed an go to the early mass. I'll pray for her. I hope she's praying for me.
So for half a year I've been a widower. Technically single, but in mourning. Whether I will or nil I now have a new life infront of me. I never wanted this. I never wanted this freedom. I was bound by a soft gold band around my finger as surely as it was a steel chain. It bound me to the one I loved and the life we had together. 6 months ago that sacred band became a hunk of worthless gold. I still put it on each day. I promised myself I'd do that for a year and a day as I mourn her.
I've decided to start blogging this second half of that year. Not for anyone's benefit other than my own, really. It will hopefully relieve some of my faithful friends on whom I've been dumping heavy text messages at odd hours. Right now it is 5:21 in the morning. I haven't slept since I got up around noon. This will be the third all-nighter this week. It's been a bad week for that. A week ago Friday was the 1 year from the start of her treatments. Today is the 1 year from when she had her "Cue Ball Party" as she called the head-shaving day she invited all her friends to. So it's been a week for memories.
Nothing left for it but to get dressed an go to the early mass. I'll pray for her. I hope she's praying for me.
--The Baron
In Memoriam
Elizabeth Nolia Trahan Korf
January 21, 1983
January 10, 2017
In Memoriam
Elizabeth Nolia Trahan Korf
January 21, 1983
January 10, 2017
