What if you knew this Thanksgiving day was the last one in your life?
For my ex-husband, Mariah's dad, it is.
Recent medical tests and the doctors informed Eric that ALS is becoming more aggressive than they thought and he is increasing getting much worse than they expected.
There are conversations I need to have with him, but no time seems like the right time. I had todays plans etched in my mind, until I saw a pumpkin roll sitting in my refrigerator. Eric loves my sister-in-law's famous pumpkin rolls.
Spur of the moment, I cut a couple of slices and even put the end slice with all the filling at its thickest on a thanksgiving plate and covered it with saran wrap and took it over. I'm just going to stop by, drop it off and ask a few questions about Mariah's Christmas gifts (we always discuss her presents together).
With little time left, I need a conversation with him.
*Please God, I hope just his aide is there and he isn't in the middle of physical therapy so he can talk. Please open up opportunities for me to say all the things I need to say and the topics we need to discuss about our daughter.*
Thankfully, I find him awake and in front of the television. I showed him the pumpkin roll, his eyes light up, and the aide said, "Perfect timing, he has been wanting donuts all day!"
Two hours we talked.
We talked about his health, his hopes and wishes for Mariah, family, friends, and laughed about funny moments when we were married. We laughed and we cried. A lot.
I wasn't prepared myself for how bad he is from just a few weeks ago. He is significantly worse. His respiratory failing, when he drinks he nearly drowns. When he cries he will burst into spontaneous fits of uncontrollable laughter. I've never seen anything like it and when he calms down he apologizes and explains he isn't losing his mind, it is all apart of the disease.
How cruel, to be broken in spirit with your head down crying hard as he was explaining to me his guilt that he won't live as long as the doctors originally thought, then to uncontrollably laugh and have no control over even his emotions during such a serious conversation.
Throughout my time spent with Eric today I said many quick prayers, *Please God, help me say all the things I have to say and leave nothing unsaid.*
I let Eric lead the conversation as to not wear him out or touch on the topics he couldn't handle, but he brought up on his own every topic I need to hear and discuss. *Thank you, God.*
With little time left, I'm so thankful I had two good hours with him today.
It is the oddest most unreal disease, this ALS. With my youngest daughter losing her dad to suicide and my oldest losing her dad to ALS, I cannot say which death is lesser of the two evils. Quickly, blindsided with no time to prepare or a deterioration and loss of quality of life, but with time to plan and prepare for death.
Today I thanked Eric for handling this nightmare disease like an absolute champ. For remaining strong, confident, positive and faith-filled with our daughter.
What he has given her in the face of death is love.
