The Annual Vigil

i am in San Antonio with youngest son, his wife and our new grandbaby, a beautiful little girl named, Raegan. It is wonderful to be with them, to hold and love this baby; to witness the blessing of my baby parenting; to be in the warmth and to have a break from my familiar surroundings. (I am unable to upload photos as I only have my IPad with me, pics to follow.)

Today marks seven years, seven years ago this day was the last 24 hours that Tom was drawing breath on this earth. Granted, he was in a coma, but he was here, he was warm and we were together. The nearly four days from November 11 to 14 in 2004 remain a blur.

There are things that stick out in sharp relief, inscribed in thick, indelible lines within my very heart.

When I walked into the trauma room in the ER that night, he was on a gurney, his clothing had been cut-off and he was intubated. They let me stay - I quietly stood at the end of that gurney and held fast to his big toe. The floor was littered with the detrius of their life saving actions. I held hope in both hands. Thirty minutes later a nurse took me in a little room and gently told me "it doesn't look good". I clutched hope more firmly and went to ICU.

Looking at the MRI for the first in the early pre-dawn hours - my dearest sister-friend Lisa by my side - it was so clear, the right side of his brain was gone. Still I hoped. i looked at those MRI pictures a half dozen times and hope began to crumble. Removing the breathing tube was the ultimate step to freeing him, but oh so difficult to do and to watch.

Laying beside him in the hospital bed, recounting our meeting, our courtship, our marriage, our love and our lives - this was his last night on earth. In the middle of the night, Cheryl, our nurse came in, gave us a smile and said, "I don't know what you are talking about, but every once in a while his heart rate jumps up there.". We were on the same wave length. Later she returned and as she was leaving, she turned around and said, "enjoy his warmth". I didn't totally understand then - I do now. I will forever feel grateful that on his last night on the planet, I slept in his arms, holding him with all I am or ever will be.

So, here I sit in the kitchen in San Antonio, listening to baby gurgles, feeling sadness mixed with such gratitude and hope. Once again touching the wound that will never quite heal. Memories assail me this morning. There is more to come.........

Rest in Peace

My dear brother, friend and mentor Michael died on Thursday afternoon at 3:30 - he has been battling brain cancer for the past year. He is now released - free from pain and all limitations. He was a brilliant man - a charismatic person that attracted people to him everywhere he traveled - a truly unique individual. I will miss him so. Death and Life inextricably linked. Michael, you will be forever - in my heart - I am filled with sorrow and with gratitude for your friendship.

Not only was Michael my friend - he was my teacher and guide or many years and in so many ways - he was a strong support and ongoing encouraging presence when I stepped out to leave my "paycheck" job and become a consultant. He was one of the best organizational development consultants on the planet, working nationally and internationally.

There are other reasons I have not posted for a few days, besides being crazy-busy and talking to my mother every two hours and I will update the blog again tomorrow.

This post is at the center of my heart tonight. Michael loved the Southwest and spent lots of time camping, hiking, and communing with nature in those amazing spirit-filled hills. He was a musician and loved music - so, here is a song, for Michael, with love - Shalom.