I looked through a couple old emails from Vernon this morning (and quit when I felt the tears rushing on.) Here is one dated 9/2005, so about the time we first met on Myspace. (Sigh, Myspace…a bit of a Melrose Place for the single 30-somethings around the turn of the century. Good times.)
hmm this is getting weird now. I mean it! You really are SO much the
person that i have ‘had in mind’ . Does that freak you out? It
freaks me a bit – but i admit it’s a calm and warm freakiness, like
the pleasant shock a lost traveller might feel when they surprisingly
find themselves at their destination yet not knowing how they got
there. yeh, something like that… i really hope we were meant to
find each other to share something very special and long lasting
between us. xxxooxxoxx
person that i have ‘had in mind’ . Does that freak you out? It
freaks me a bit – but i admit it’s a calm and warm freakiness, like
the pleasant shock a lost traveller might feel when they surprisingly
find themselves at their destination yet not knowing how they got
there. yeh, something like that… i really hope we were meant to
find each other to share something very special and long lasting
between us. xxxooxxoxx
I’d forgotten how quickly and intensely our feelings had developed. We hadn’t even met each other in person yet. Many times throughout our courtship, Vernon expressed a sense of ‘knowing’ about us. I’ll bring some of these emails to share with him today. I think he’ll like it.
I brought him a couple of his love letters to read yesterday. I’ve read them to him so many times since I found them in the spring. We listened to Nick Drake and the Clientele, at his request. These were CDs I played over and over when he was in Mission Hospital all those early months. He seems to like the music on when I leave the room. Probably makes him feel less alone.
He is sleeping a lot more between visits, but we are getting moments of wonderful clarity. Maki had some time alone with him the other day, and though I haven’t heard much about it yet, it seemed like it was meaningful. He said he was very alert with him. He was very alert with me yesterday too. It’s such an miracle, how is this even possible now, we think? It does help us embrace the mystery as we can appreciate how special this experience is. I tell Maki: none of us know how to do this. If you feel like doing something, you are probably right.
I fed him ice cream. I guess he’s been eating a lot of that. 🙂 He has been asking Joe to give him the cup and spoon so he can feed himself. Joe, of course, loves spoiling him and won’t leave his side when family isn’t there. We love that we are finally allowed to give him food and water. I had to sign the Advanced Directive at long last, which suddenly opened up the kitchen to him again. He’s no longer receiving food or water through his g-tube, but he is allowed to have smooth foods and water for oral gratification. He got a nice British tea delivered to his room: sausage, mushy peas, and mashed potatoes. He also got a side of tapioca and ice cream. I think this may have been the first time he’s had a tray of his own at Mesa Verde. How ironic.
Truth be told, he didn’t like it very much. He’s lost interest in food already. Except ice cream. We’ve given him a lot of that the past couple of days, starting with frozen yogurt in the hospital. It’s been so nice to feed him.
I’d already started crying earlier when I asked for chocolate ice cream and the kitchen worker readily handed me a cup. I remembered all the times I used to plead for food for him. At one point, they’d let me feed him thickened apple juice, but even that became contraband once his order was cut off by the speech therapist. Here he is with a vanilla milkshake from In and Out…they are the best.
But he was SO clear with me yesterday, so present. I know he has been remarkably aware the past couple of days, but yesterday it was if his memory had returned from the depths. It was remarkable—it felt like a miracle, a resurrection of sorts. I looked at his eyes and they seemed to be lined in the same direction.
I reminded him a little of our love story, reading some old letters. He loved that. I told him I’d travelled a long way to be with him (in England) and he responded: “I travelled a long way to be with you too.”
(He’s right of course, but he remembered!)
I told him it had been over two years since the accident. “I can imagine that’s true,” he said softly.
I was shocked. All this time, he never seemed to understand he’s been bed-bound that long, or even that he’s very injured. He would get angry whenever I’d try to convince him. Total denial and then, with the memory loss, it would keep happening all over again. So this was different.
I told him that I missed talking to him like this. He told me to stop talking about it. “It’s reality,” he said peacefully but firmly.
Of course I went on a little. “Stop talking about it now,” he said again.
I asked if there were any grudges he had to forgive. Of course he couldn’t think of any. I couldn’t think of any for him either. I’m pretty sure he has made his peace. The truth is, he was always a forgiving guy.
He’s taught me to be forgiving too—he’s still teaching me. Last week, before the decline was confirmed, I’d asked him if given the chance, would he want the people in the truck that hit the vespa to visit him.
“Sure,” he said.
“What would you say to them?”
He looked up with his innocent, wide eyes, “I’d say: Hello. How is it going? How’s life?”
He’s slowing down rapidly now, sleeping most of the time. Hospice told me he would start fading more quickly at this point. It’s been one week since his last dialysis. It usually takes about 8 days from then, they say. After a busy week of visitors, I’m starting to draw tighter boundaries. There is little energy left, and it should be spent on his loved ones. Death may not be today or tomorrow, but it will be very soon now. I imagine his passing will be like Vernon’s own words:
a calm and warm freakiness, like the pleasant shock a lost traveller might feel when they surprisingly find themselves at their destination yet not knowing how they got
there. yeh, something like that…
there. yeh, something like that…
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Beautiful post allison☺️ Cherish these moments…
Alison, I’m your mothers cousin Sara and have been following your blog. Please know you have my my deepest sympathies and lots of prayers for you and the kids, you have been stronger and braver than I can even imagine. God Bless you and your family.
Beautiful
Dear Allison,
I’ve followed your blog from the very beginning and have never missed a one. Today I felt that I must finally write you how devastated I feel for you and your children with the impending transition of Vernon from the here-and-now to the wonderful eternal life with our loving God. This aspect is truly a blessing when we have eternity to look forward to and must not be forgotten. I am in tears and sobbing for you, Vernon, Justine and Maki. It has been a long journey and like so many have commented on your posts over these two years, I have found that your compassion, love, hope, advocacy for Vernon, your strength and your total being has moved me deeply. I send prayers and love to you and your family.
Can not begin to express how much love I have for you. You remind me of when my parents were taken off of everything and their calm came on. it’s like that and totally confusing, but then- not at all. We’re not meant to be taking drugs upon drugs and being hooked up to this and that. It is man imposed in the name of saving life. I’m so grateful you have this time with him now and yes, keep these last precious moment for you and the immediate family. Others will understand, the ones that don’t. They haven’t lost someone and it isn’t for Vernon then anyway so nevermind. I’m hard core about this. Bless you darling, loving you so much for sharing through this process, I pray you keep well and peace filled too. Sending you great blessings and a huge long hug. Your strength is that of an Olympian, I’m calling Brazil to send your medal over.
Certainly he won’t remember when I stayed with him that one day, but please send Vernon my love and let him know he is in meditative blessings too.XO<3 ~E
What you have written is so beautiful and reflective. I remember, like it was last night and not over two years, the clarity and focus of my mother..the remembering and the telling me of stories I had not yet heard. Her speaking of feelings she had never shared. Those were perhaps the most precious moments, those last ones, I may have ever experienced with her. And I did not hesitate to ask questions and search for what I needed to know. I read this morning perspiration comes often if tears are not freed and the measure of prayer shall be until thy tears come. Sending love.
Beautiful
You knew how to do this. Just as I told you. You have been on a journey of learning to arrive at this perfect moment for God to give you a miracle. The miracle of LOVE.
Spellbinding.
Thank you Allison for all of your sharing.
Hello Allison. I just learned about your family last night from Elona. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, a young beautiful girl first in Dallas (90-92) where I worked with your Mom, and then in HB. I’m reading with tears your and Vernon’s story. I am so glad you have found a way to process it all through writing. Thanks for allowing us to share your journey. God is giving you his supernatural strength. You seem to have chosen well in living your life with Vernon. Your family is in my prayers. Love you and praying.
I’m so deeply moved. From a beautiful heart.
Allison,
We are still praying and we are not praying for miracle but a peaceful home going of Vernon. You have shared so much and you have taught all of us how it is to struggle though all the problems. God be with you and you children/
Hugs,
Becky
Miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. The real miracle is the love that inspires them. In this sense everything that comes from love is a miracle. (Marianne Williamson 0
love you both so much xx enjoy your ice cream vern xx
The way you’ve navigated through the time since Vernon’s accident endlessly astounds me. Your deep understanding of things and your insights…and your ability to communicate this wisdom to everyone who reads your words and views your photographs. We’re all so blessed to know you in whatever capacity. Thank you, as always, for sharing your life with us.
I am one who has been quietly following you since the accident and I had to tell you what a blessing your words and deeds have been in my life. On many a tough day, I would encourage myself with “Come on! What would Allison do in this situation?” And I would dig deep for courage and move forward. Thank you so much. Someday when you can, I hope you write a book (with photos, of course) so that others will be encouraged. In the meantime, my prayers are with you.
What a beautiful chapter in one of my favorite books, this.
I know of you through my family. Have followed your posts from the beginning. My heart goes out to all of you. May God bless you through this time. Such an amazing, heartfelt journey. Sending prayers.
Thinking of you, Vernon and the kids constantly. Sending peaceful thoughts and prayers your way. You are all such gifts to us.
We are with you in spirit sweet girl and just wrapping our arms around you both. I loved getting to kiss Vernon on the cheek the other day! I will always treasure that moment. Every day we wonder what is going to happen that day. Just know we are thinking and praying for you continually. Love, Nancy and Joe ps We agree with all the other comments and FB posts – you are walking in the strength and grace of the Lord and we are all just so grateful for your courage!
Dear Allison,
I have also been following your story, quietly. I have been an art student of your dad and began reading about your journey when it first happened. I have cheered for you, prayed for you, rejoiced and smiled to myself while reading about your wonderful children. My thoughts and prayers, like many others, who know you and those like myself, who have been supporting you as strangers, continue to lift you up as you walk this path. You are an incredible woman, mother, and wife. Your example of love is something that is Christ like, something we all need to be more of. God Bless you and your family. Thank-you for sharing with us, teaching us.
I have no words. Only love for you. So much love.
That is so beautifully written. Your ability to be truly present and hold a sacred space for him with such love and rightness is remarkable. Your in my thoughts every minute.
Allison, all I can hope for is that you will feel how much you are loved by everyone reading this. You are not alone. We love you and Vernon very much.