Goodbye My Randy
Cancer stole my husband
by Renee Blakely
Randal Temple Blakely
February 10, 1954 - August 10, 2019
I lie next to you and take your hand in mine and you wince with pain. Your hands are so cold and thin and your veins protrude prominently above your withered dry skin. You are constantly cold. I cry silently knowing you are so ill and will not remain with me for long. I say to you, Randitio, I don't want to live without you.
You tell me "Nae, I don't think I can hold on much longer. I ask if you are ready to meet Jesus and you say, Oh yes, yes. My tears flow more and snot drips from my nose. I try to hide it but you know and offer a weak smile. I am heart broken. I curl my knees up close to me to offer myself some comfort, but I don't find any. I watch you breath, fearing it will stop at any moment. I take in your chiseled, frail face. You are emaciated now. Cancer having stolen all but 140lbs of you. You are not eating any longer, not even your favorite vanilla ice cream or a sip or water.
I am so incredibly sad. I think irrational thoughts about going back to the beginning of your cancer and doing something different. I berate myself for not doing more for you. You count on me for everything, and it is with joy I do so. I know it will not be long before I do not get to have you here. I remember when your were young and strong and capable and I am already grieving this loss. You forget things often and I repeat them to you and I die a little more inside each time. I hate your suffering!
You have been my life long partner, husband, friend and my biggest supporter. I don't want to imagine you gone, and yet I cannot defeat your impending death.
You fell down near the end of your life and you had no strength to get up. I had to call the paramedics and found myself angered when one them said "try" to get up. I told him "He's dying! He cannot get up. That's why I called you."
"He's dying" repeats itself over and over in my head. Each time I cried and hoped things would turn around. In all of my life, your cancer and watching you slowly leave me is the most difficult and painful of all my moments.
I love you Randito. I miss you!
*Renee Blakely is a child of divorce and a breast cancer survivor. She is a powerful, spiritual and loving soul who has not allowed the loss of her brother, the imprisonment of her son, the raising of her grandson, or the passing of her husband, alter her sincere compassion for others. Renee is a model human to admire and to know.