Until The Last Moment

“My sheep hear My voice and I know them and they follow me” - John 10:27


I’ve been sitting in front of the dwindling fire in the fireplace for the past hour. I stare at it and look over at the empty couch. Johnny has been sleeping on and off all day….mostly on. He finally gave up and went upstairs to bed. I don’t know how much longer he will be able to make it up the steps. He takes a few steps at a time and must rest before he continues up. We have 16 stairs. When he gets to the top he is exhausted.


I’ve tried to get him to start sleeping downstairs – but he is such a fighter. He won’t give up until he just can’t do it anymore – till he has fought with all his might. He has always been a good card player. He knows when to “hold em” and when to “fold em.” He also knows when to walk away. This week he walked away from the chemo and told the doctor – “no more.”


He weighed in about 145lbs and has never recovered from the devastating effects of the last chemo. He hasn’t eaten more than a handful daily in weeks. He threw up the night before the scheduled chemo. He walked out of the bathroom and told me “that’s it – let’s talk about hospice.”


I’ve been trying to broach the subject for weeks. But he would hold up his hand and forbid me to mention it, “don’t take away my hope” he would say. I couldn’t make him understand all the positive benefits of the improvements in his quality of life. Then “a God thing” happened when his friend Chuck came to visit one day.


In the course of a conversation they had, Chuck started relating his own experiences with hospice when his dad was sick. Something about hearing it from another man made Johnny listen. That began the process of Johnny’s mind being receptive to getting help in a different way.


And so this week Hospice came to the house and we began the process of setting up services here at home. They are wonderful. He is now getting a whole new level of medical attention that really gives us the security of someone “having our back” on a 24/7 basis. We have an assigned nurse. They handle all the medications from here on. He has instant access to doctors on call. New meds arrived on our doorstep within an hour of his assessment.


A shower chair arrived the next day. An aide is on call when he needs assistance of any kind doing daily activities. Counselors and pastors are available. Folks, this is medical care as it should be. Compassion combined with the philosophy that the patient’s best interest is their only interest.


There has been a flurry of activity going on the last few days that has exhausted Johnny. I think he has found a new peace in the process of letting go and giving up the chemo fight. He has been sleeping constantly as if finally allowing himself to relax. He is on a new medication regimen targeting his nausea first. But he still hardly eats.


I suddenly realize that this week has exhausted me also. But it is more than physical. I know my spirit took flight this week to help him fly. I feel as if spiritually, I have been with him on his journey trying to help him over this big hurdle. I’ve been holding his hand when I need to spiritually, and carrying him on my shoulders when he can’t go further. These are the moments our spirits came together as one.


I have not been able to write this week. My mind has been blank because my spirit was not present – it was with Johnny walking through the valley….trying to follow our Shepherd in a place we have never been. I have had to lead Johnny for the first time.


I’ve been holding our wedding picture clutched to my heart as I’ve stared at the fire tonight. It’s my favorite wedding picture. We had just turned around and were walking hand and hand towards our unknown future for the first time as man and wife. Johnny was leading the way.


Tonight, I felt so alone. He didn’t even finish watching the fire die out like he always does. Even when he was still there it’s like he wasn’t there. The man that now lays on the couch is not the same Johnny I have known for 33 years. He is a fragile shell of the old Johnny, whose zest for living and laughing and loving life to the fullest, always made our world an adventure.


There are many seasons that love travels through. I was not expecting this one for a few more decades. But here it is. It’s “baptism by fire.” Walking through this valley is indescribable. It really is like a fog you can’t see through. All we can do is listen for “the shepherd’s voice” calling out to us and guiding us through to the other side of the valley towards the light.


And so we walk – one day at a time – step by step – walking through fear, walking through uncertainty, walking through pain – and clinging to the peace that surpasses all understanding. God tells us “I know my sheep and am known by My own. We follow in faith because we know that all is well….no matter the circumstances….because we are loved, we are watched over….and we are together…….now and forever….until the last moment.


Beautiful Blessings,


Rene