My heart is broken over the passing of my beloved husband, Dale, this past Tuesday. He was such a gentle soul, and devoted many hours to soothing my savage soul. Of course, I was the one who "rage(d) against the dying of the light" over the last year and a half, ever since he was diagnosed with a rare form of Parkinson's Disease, most likely PSP according to the doctors.
It's utterly surreal and my head is swimming in replaying the tragic events of this week. On Monday, we were faced with putting our 15-year-old dog to sleep. Dale asked if he should go with me or "... would I be more of a burden for you?" (I had to load a wheelchair and help him into and out of it). I assured him he was no burden and that, indeed, I would be grateful for his support. He and I watched our baby drift peacefully off to sleep in my arms, then we went home to an empty house. Later that evening, Dale consoled me by suggesting that Angel Girl was now in heaven helping to pick out our mansion.
Never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me that Dale himself might join Angel the very next morning. As far as I was concerned, we still had some quality of life to enjoy together -- but God had different plans. I pray He holds me and my family up during the coming months. And I ask for your prayers as well.