The Day I Knew It Was Okay To Let Go...
Monday October 10 2011… I will always remember that day…
We had just finish celebrating my husband’s birthday, surrounded by family and friends, during one of the warmest Columbus Day weekends in the Northeast. After 3 full days of entertaining, we escorted the last of our visitors to the airport and vowed that this was it! 2012 would be a sabbatical year for us (as far as entertaining). We then sent the kids to bed. It was back to reality for them, with the school year starting again after the long weekend. I joined my husband on the sofa as he watched over and over again in awe, the slideshow I made of his life on our flat screen TV. Exhaustion took over, so I went to lie down in bed and eventually dozed off.
At about 2:10am, I woke up to my chest hurting. I tossed a little and tried to go back to sleep when I heard coughing from the bathroom. Only then did I realize I was alone in bed. I start thinking, while I heard more coughing and the shower running, that my husband was probably having a small bout with asthma but trusted he had it under control. In the 20 years we've been together, I’ve never seen him in distress.
I heard things falling... the water stop... and the coughing was faint but still there. Then I heard him call my name; not loud enough that it would have woken me up, but like a whisper filled with angst, in a tone which made it ear-piercing. What was happening? Was I still dreaming? If this was a nightmare, I needed to be woken up right away. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that lucky…
I immediately jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom and pushed the door open. In the next five seconds, I saw one of the most alarming things I had ever seen. My husband was sitting on the toilet, undressed, with both hands clinched; one on the window seal one on the sink. His eyes were blood-shot red and he was fighting... fighting to take a breath. I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing, but I knew I had to respond quickly. Frantically, I ran back to the bedroom. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I was trying to think clearly. I grabbed the house phone and dialed 911. I then grabbed my cell phone and dialed my brother, who is my first emergency contact. Five seconds had passed...
His breathing was shallow, foam was coming off his mouth, his skin color had faded from brown to ashy to blue, and his eyes had an expression that I still can’t describe. The 911 operator (over the speakerphone) was telling me that I had to do CPR, and that I had to lay him on the floor but I couldn't move him. He was clinching so hard and his body was so stiff. I was pulling with all my might, but couldn't move him. I began to feel useless; like I couldn’t do anything to help the one I love the most. All I could do was tell him to “hang in there” and tell him that I loved him, and beg the operator to hurry. A lifetime passed and he stopped breathing. His body let go, and his head and shoulders dropped. I pulled him, laid him on the tiled floor of the bathroom and with the help of the operator, started giving him CPR. They told me not to stop so I wasn’t going to stop, no matter what. Not even if the Earth stopped rotating. Not even if the sky began to fall. In my mind, I was praying that my babies didn't wake up and see us like this, see their father like this... The paramedics finally arrived, after what seemed like a million hours. It took about 25 minutes for all 8 of them to finally get a steady pulse, and partially stabilize him, before rushing him to the hospital.
My sister said "Calm down, all you can do his pray now". The medics said, "Ma’am, you did a great job... probably saved his life. He is in good hands now". All I could think about was how very true it is, that when you’re in need, that’s usually when you remember God. When trouble begins to rise, that's when you remember that you know someone who performs miracles, and you begin to call on to him...
Well, that day was my day. I was sitting in the emergency room with my brother and all I could do was remind God how good of a man my husband was; how he had never done anything wrong, how young he was, how he had 2 beautiful kids who adore him, and what would the kids or I do without him... I wanted to turn back the hands of time. This weekend wasn't supposed to be our goodbye to him; rather, it was a toast to the first 40 years and a send off to the next 40...
That night they put him in a coma induced sleep to help his lungs, and to help his body recoup from the trauma. I sat on the hospital chair next to his bed and stared. I needed to go home and take my babygirl to school, so I told the nurse that I'd be right back. I walked in a daze through the parking lot, still not understanding what just happened. I sat in my car and I cried, cried hysterically...
That was my “wake up call”. That was the day I knew it was okay to let go. I realized that I'd always have someone who has my back. I still have fears, because what is granted to me can so easily be taken, but now more than ever, I understand that "when I'm lead to the edge of a cliff, I need to trust God fully and let go. He will either catch me when I fall or he will teach me how to fly".
That day he taught me how to fly...
Our destiny has been set for us. While in your hands you have the ability to make it the best it can be, don't waste any time. Love, celebrate, appreciate and let love.
Fast forward to present time, Thursday October 10 2019:
“Everyone has a thousand wishes before a tragedy, but just one afterward.”
― Fredrik Backman, Beartown
Today as I sat here, my mind is transported back to October 10th 2011 when with family and friends we gathered to celebrate in style The Hubby’s 40th birthday and how less than 24 hours later the rug was pulled off our feet.
On that day, The Hubby clinically died…
On that day, the hours, and days that followed, I undoubtedly learned the greatest lesson of all which is that invaluable gifts are bestowed to us during our deepest struggles…
On that day I realized that each and every aspects of my/our life is a piece of a gigantic puzzle, which I won't be able to complete if even just a part of it missing.
On days when my pieces are scattered – God knows it happens more often than none – and on days when I need to remember that I am God’s child and that being alive means that things will get broken; on those days, I learned that God will entertain my bargaining with him for his grace…
Grace is a subtle whisper. Sometimes we don’t hear it unless we close our eyes and bow our head and sometimes it requires open eyes which the sight of its truth could shatter our hearts.
With love and grace, always remember that I love you - Smooches!
