How lucky I was to have someone to come home to; for thirty-three years. She asked me to write so many times and like other things I kept putting it off for another day.
Now these words are like logs floating down on my river of tears. This giant log jam is in my eyes, I try to sleep and the words repeat and repeat, pounding against my eyelids , I can not rest until I write. I cried like this before. I was nine, ten years old, in Denmark; alone, for the first time away from my family. I hid in the woodshed so no one would see me cry
It's been forty five days now that she has passed away.
I'm so lonely. I'm so guilty for not doing more for her. She put her life in my hands and I failed her. She died for a cause, like a true hero; believing in her healing herbs until her last breath.
Those horrible last hours, her last night; I'm so glad I was with her until the very end. The fluid built up fast on her lungs, pneumonia was slowly winning the battle. Every breath was a fight. When a cough shook her frail body, she reached up and out with her one good hand, to hold unto mine. Like a drowning man. Oh, My God !!! I've seen the fear in her eyes as she drowned over and over again. So helpless. By the time morning came she was exhausted, barely breathing; the hiss of the oxygen dominated the quiet of the room. She lay silently and I must have dozed off. I woke when I heard a whisper; my name.
The Sun just begin to rise, the mist in the air left a mystical vapor around the evergreens outside of her window. Did not know that this was the last hour of her last day. Another coughing spell, this time blood stained her lips. I called the Nurse.
Her eyes opened wide, almost with suprise, as if she was seeing something above me, she called my name. Ben ! Ben ! Ben ! Her grip on my hand weakened and she was gone. Thank You Merciful Lord ! My Love will be with her forever.