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Lasting Love: A husband and wife's last moments together.
Posted by In Walked Ryan, Feb 15, 2009. 1268 views. ID = 2345

Lasting Love

Posted by In Walked Ryan, Feb 15, 2009. 1268 views. ID = 2345
This post was written in 0 minutes.
This post has been awarded 8 stars by 2 readers.

Garrison turned to me with only his head and opened his eyes slowly, “I don’t know anything.” His eyes locked me for a few seconds.

These were the only words he had spoken in what seemed no more than handful of months. I clutched his hand from my brown overstuffed couch, he in bed with white sheets. I shuddered. The white sheets had reminded me of a hospital where my own mother once was at last stages of her life. It was not so much fear that gripped me, but an emptiness.

Garrison’s eyelids slowly began to droop. He opened his eyes before they closed and blinked, but his eyelids immediately fell down. He then rolled over and remained in this position for the rest of that day and the next. Health willing, I sat nearby and held his hands from the same couch. Luckily, my niece and nephew visiting and helping around the house. My niece was actually always here doing more than helping around the house.

I beckoned her to the room and smiled as she came into the room. She looked at me the same every time she entered the room. Her dark brown hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her eyes hazel and bright with a spark of curiosity and innocence trained on my weary face. I smiled sweetly back. There was a moment of complete silence and a complete understanding that clung only between my niece and me.

She walked to a small wooden cabinet and bent down. She opened up and rows of records were displayed. She put out her index finger and ran it along each record mouthing the titles. In my entire life I had never known a more beautiful girl and I loved her dearly. Her finger stopped on Handel and a small smile appeared on her face. She put on the record. I remember it was Handel, but nothing outside of that. As soon as the record player would start, she would leave the room silently as if not to disrupt the moment. I could barely sit straight myself; let alone turn my head slouched so far down into the cushions. So instead, I stared straight and took the hand of the closed-eyes love of my existence.


When I first received the news of my husband falling ill, I came into the bedroom. Garrison was one his side, eyes closed, one hand curled slightly and positioned awkwardly. I called out his name quietly. He did not respond. I called out again with increasing loudness each time there was no response. This was all happening from the doorway. I ran to his bedside and clutched the side rail. I leaned forward wailing, “We love you! We love you!”

He quivered, his legs jerked. I looked back at the nurse and doctor in the room. I looked at the nurse with hopeful eyes. Her agrees also appearing agreeable faded when the doctor said, “Muscle spasms.”
This is when I collapsed to the floor in a sitting crumpled heap. My eyes, unblinking focusing on nothing, but taking in everything. “Are you alright?” I heard my niece saying. “Auntie, auntie!”
I looked at her strangely with eyes of sorrow poorly masked as caring eyes. I smiled a weak smile. “Of course, sweety. Everything is fine,” I lied.

She looked back at me with poorly disguised comforted face, but with a look of sadness and pity. “Let me get you something more comfortable to sit on,” she said softly.

She motioned to her brother in the corner to bring over something for me to sit on. He looked around the room quickly and spotted my brown overstuffed couch. He grabbed that and brought over to Garrison’s bedside. He bent down to offer me help, but I refused it rather harshly. If I were to relive that I would have to be more polite about it. I struggled up and got into the chair. I sat down in the chair and slouched down. I pushed myself back up and grabbed my husband’s hand.



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