A certain smile

Happy Halloween.  The apartment complex sent a monthly newsletter here last week.  In the letter, they provided a sign you can put on your door knob if you want trick or treaters to come to your door.  If you don't put this sign on your door knob, you won't have any trick or treaters knocking on your door.  I thought this a great idea, because, I did not plan on buying any candy.

In taking the dog out for his morning walk, I noticed residents have already placed this sign on their doors.  As I walked back to my door,  it looked so bare and cold.  The door with no sign hanging from the door knob screamed what my life is like now.  Almost as if mocking me. 

I have this sadness that won't go away.  Such a heaviness in my chest this whole week.   And now, my barren, cold door knob, with no sign hanging from it has only made it worse.

Husband is doing poorly.  His awareness is fading.  He is sitting in his chair now, head dropped, occasionally talking to someone, using his hands as he attempts to speak.  He has been hallucinating all morning. 

I am thinking of putting up a tree shortly after Thanksgiving.  Just in case.  I will have to get an artificial tree.  I didn't want an artificial one, I wanted a real tree.  But, now, with circumstances being what they are, I want him to see a Christmas tree.  Real or not, I feel this need to get one up, fast.

While I am praying his journey is almost over,  I don't want it to be in December.  Please, not December.  January.  Yes, January would be better.  Please God.

His voice is also fading.  You can barely hear him.  I have to really strain my ears to hear him.  He doesn't know words, spins his hands while trying to remember a simple word.

The trees are mostly bare now.  The leaves lay on the ground, once green and full of beauty.  They are now brown and crisp.  Crackling under my feet as I walk the dog. 

I feel different now.  Lonely in a way.  Sad.  Scared at what life will be like once husband is gone.  Will I be OK?  I know I will be a different person, for sure.  Not the carefree person I used to be.

I look at life differently now.  I look at death differently as well.  When husband is hallucinating, he looks up and smiles the sweetest smile.  I feel in my heart, he sees God, or, Angels, speaking to him.  It's that smile, so pure and simple.  It's hard to describe.

He knows he's leaving.  And, he's OK with it.  Because the smile tells me so.