Not Alone
The content of this post is unacceptably belated, inadequate in scope, and flawed in execution. It is, nonetheless, necessary.
I awoke this morning with the realization that I have written about the end of Julie’s1 life as though she and I went through that tragedy alone. This is glaringly inaccurate.
When it became clear that Julie’s worsening condition would soon make it impossible for me to take care of her, our sons, and our home while continuing to work even part-time, we hesitatingly asked our mothers if one of them could lend a hand. (Julie’s father and mine had died a few years previously.) Both Julie’s mother and mine immediately left their friends, community, and, in the case of Julie’s mother, her husband (who had his own health problems) to stay with us, hundreds of miles from their own homes, for weeks and then months, doing everything and anything that needed to be done.
Many of the clinicians who worked with Julie were not only competent but were also empathic and extraordinarily caring. Several physicians and nurses who were no longer actively treating her (because we had moved) stayed in touch with her and followed her care.
Without exception, each of the Hospice workers extended herself (all of those working with Julie happened to be female) far beyond their already onerous job descriptions and were tremendously helpful.2
Of course, we had friends who pitched in to help and who were in contact via phone calls, e-mail, and visits. More surprisingly, some individuals who were casual acquaintances and some who were actually business associates, merchants, and professionals we had hired for one project or another spontaneously offered their assistance, for example, running errands, transporting Julie to outpatient dialysis (an hour’s drive each way), and arranging changes in the kids’ school bus routes. Two individuals I met online, one through an e-mail mix-up and one I had hired to help on a web site, were incredibly insightful and supportive although I met neither in person prior to Julie’s death.
Only a day or so before Julie finally died, I called upon a colleague and friend to ask her help in arranging the cremation and memorial service. She efficaciously accomplished this unrewarding task, as I knew she would, without hesitation or complaint.
Without this help, not only would our lives have been much more difficult but I would not have been privileged to care for and spend so much time with Julie in those last weeks of her life. And for that, I am deeply thankful.
This is not an exhaustive list; nor does it sufficiently express my gratitude. It is only my attempt to declare my profound indebtedness to all those who were there for Julie and for me when we needed them and to apologize for not making this declaration earlier.
Footnotes
- Julie Showalter was the fiercely intelligent, sexy, and loving woman and prize-winning author, with whom I had a outrageously wonderful 20 year marriage that ended with her death in late 1999 from cancer diagnosed the week of our wedding nearly 20 years earlier. Many posts on this blog are about her, our unlikely romance, and our life together, and still others consist of her writings. Information can be found at Julie Showalter FAQ. ~back~
- One of the Hospice workers spent hours arduously working to persuade Blue Cross to qualify Julie for Hospice care despite the continuation of her dialysis, the first such waiver granted in this jurisdiction. I later discovered that the responsible Hospice worker was a part-time volunteer. ~back~
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