Life ends and a new one begins

You never know when an end will come. Sometimes, you have some warning that things are in the final stretch while other times it hits you out of the blue.

Scripture tells us that our life is but a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow.  I know the feeling of that as I talked to Matt between 6:30 and 7:00 pm on the evening of his passing. While he was sleeping, he did awaken and talk to me. I was hurrying as I usually do on my break: taking the time to get the dog outside to potty, using the bathroom for myself and coming to check to see if he had a need of anything. Did he need food, drink, need to get up to go to the bathroom himself? He told me he was good, he didn't need anything. I asked him if he was hot because he had kicked out from under the cover and his reply was that he was burning up.  After seeing where Shiloh had gotten BBQ sauce all over my side of the bed, I gently told him that he would have to get up when I got off at 10 so I could change the sheets. He shook his head in the affirmative and said ok. I told him I had to go back to work and I would see him in a little bit.

While it was only 3 hours, I didn't put together how bad he was feeling. Usually, he would call my phone around 7:30-8 just to listen as I answered calls or ask me what we were going to have for dinner when I got off. He didn't call and I was busy enough that I didn't even think about it at the time. End of shift came and I start my routine: bathroom for me, back outside for Shiloh for the final bathroom of the evening, grab the sheets I needed from the laundry hamper and head to the bedroom to wake Matt up.

I enter the room to our fans blowing across him from both sides of the bed, lamp on my side of the bed giving a faint glow as well as the bluish glow of the tv screen where he would listen to some show since he could barely see what was being shown. He is still laying there as I saw him the 3 hours prior, the only difference was he had turned his head the opposite direction and moved his right arm up from his waist to the middle of the bed. Nothing off about that as that was a normal sleeping position for him. I call his name, "Matt, wake up. We got to change the sheets." Then I start trying to get the top layers off him and per usual, he had his foot wrapped up in the sheet. I giggle a bit because he had a bad habit of that and taking all the sheet from me, yet it was always my fault that the sheets were messed up or he would say Shiloh did it.  I get the sheet pulled back and I'm still calling his name with no response. I look up from his foot and call his name a little louder.

That's when I saw: lips blue and white foam in his mouth. I began to scream his name and leaned back and shoved his body as forcefully as I could. "MATT YOU BETTER BE PLAYING A JOKE ON ME. DON'T DO THIS TO ME" I'm screaming now and my knees almost buckle beneath me. All I can think in this moment is how am I gonna do this? I have to call my mom and get the dog outside.  She can get here and deal with the the ems while I sit outside with the dog. I am shaking as I try to dial the number to her phone and when she answers all I can do is scream "Matt's dead!" over and over again until she finally understood whtmat I was saying. She told me to hang up and call 911.

As I dialed 911, my operator was a girl I had went to elementary school with and whom Matt had worked with briefly in his time with ems. She talked to me, calmed me down to where I could leave Shiloh in the backyard and get the door closed so he couldn't burst through it, to be able to meet the ems supervisor on the front porch when he arrived. 

While on the phone with her, I had posted a 3 word post in our church group of Matt is dead and my phone began to blow up with texts. My pastor and 1st lady were preaching in Mississippi over 5 hours away but immediately began texting, Sis. Cyndi, the Hargroves, Sis. Marie, Bro. Nathan my assistant pastor all started reaching out. Along with my parents and sister, my church family began showing up at my house while I waited for the death investigation to finish and the funeral home transport to arrive. 

In reality, from the time I found him at 10:15 to the ems pronouncement only 15 minutes elapsed. The funeral home was called at 10:46 and transport arrived at 12:15 which is part for the course of what we tell people to expect for transport, an hour and a half. Two hours! Only two hours but it felt like an eternity. 

That was three weeks ago tomorrow. In three weeks, I have had to go back to work instead of being able to take time to grieve. Life goes on and bills do not stop. I have had a visitation where I saw him shell laying in a casket for the last time. I've had his family members and friends clamoring about what I need and how I need to do this or that, asking if they can get this or that of his.  I want to ask them where had they been. How many times did he call or text them asking if they could take him to a doctor's appointment or even come sit on the porch with him so he could get out of the house. I want to ask but I haven't.  I have bit my tounge to be the bigger person. I planned his visitation and I planned his memorial around the schedule they gave me to be available. And still, they didn't show up.

Life still goes on.  In July, I had asked pastor about what I should do if I had to make the choice between caring for Matt and doingall that I needed to for God.  He told me that I should always put God first no matter what.  I pushed and I pushed and tried to do all that I could. Then it was like everything started falling apart. Matt lost his insurance, I started paying out half my check each week just so he could get a continuum of care. But, this reset everything, premiums and co-pays on top of a clerical error that resulted in him not being covered for a month. 

I spiraled a bit because I felt the weight of everything on my shoulders.  I did everything I could but it wasn't enough. I hate to admit this but I was getting more and more depressed, reaching a place where I felt I couldn't go on anymore. I was crying out to God, but I felt as if I was falling further away. I started hearing the words of a song in my mind and kept humming it for days. The humming turned into saying the words "Here is where I lay it down, every lie and every doubt, this is my surrender." Then it followed with "I will make room for you, to do whatever you want to."  That went on for days and then---Sunday came.

That Sunday at church, I started praying and I felt stuck. All I could think of was the weight I was carrying and the things going on with Matt at that time.  In that moment, those words began to flow from my lips and became my prayer. The "Do whatever you want to" became a mantra over and over as I cried out to God telling Him that I lay it all down.The rest of August went off without a hitch and Matt even started pulling back to God. When September came, I think Matt knew his time was limited. He asked me to stay home with him instead of going into the office for work. He had never done that before.  Then the 19th happened.  

I titled this as When life ends life begins.  That question I asked pastor in July was a hypothetical at that point. We had not had our revival at church with the new people coming in. We had not seen the ones who have been filled with the Holy Ghost. There is a purpose past the pain. Having to be tied to Matt and his care limited things I could do and places I could go.  In 2005, I clearly saw myself in New Mexico with my Indian kids on the reservation.  Is that where I am supposed to go? I don't know. But the option of taking that trip is there.  Obviously there is a whole new life for me now and I'm fearful. I wasn't in Truth when I met Matt. Definitely didn't court and marry in a Godly way. Everything that lies ahead of me is a new life. I have to trust God now more than ever before.