My Family After Tragedy

I have been warning myself about this story because it is full of negative energy and resentment.  These passages have become one of my darkest demons; I have others, this is not the only one, but as for the illness and death of my wife, these are the horns of the beast. Thinking about not knowing what it feels like to face imminent mortality makes me reconsider, but the dark side is mighty and sucks me in. When I was a child, my father told me that for the world to exist as we know it, everything has to be in it, including good people, bad people, murderers, victims, friendly people, crazy people, swindlers, charlatans, tyrants, etc. All these different characters made the world. At the time, I never paid attention to my father's wisdom - " Wow, Dad; you're right ".  But yes, he was right. Christina was the kindest person I have ever met. In one of her social circles, she met a lady, Lady Y , who introduced herself to her as a cultured person, a person of books, know

In a Toastmaster meeting after her first operation Many years ago Christina asked me what would I say about her, and knowing that my intellect had yet to mature she preempted my response: " Do not tell me that I am cute and wild, or that my skin is soft, or that I am a master chef.  Tell me what you really think of me; the truth ". At the time I gave her an answer.  However, her early departure has made me reflect on my words to discover that I would need a lifetime to let her know my thoughts.  I can add one more sentence every day. Christina loved her family, her parents, and also her sisters.  She always wanted to be close to her mom and dad.  I felt great respect for those feelings because they were genuine.  She adored her dad so much that she cultivated herself in the history of the two great European wars of the XX century, and how her dad's native Hungary was affected by these events and inevitably her dad.  She wanted to write a book about her dad. Christina woul

  We miss you so much, Christina. I remember looking at Christina from a distance while she worked in her garden not knowing that the instance would not be infinite.  It is one of my favorite memories of her. She always reminded me of a little girl playing in the mud, so innocent, absorbed in whatever she had in between her fingers.  I loved her. " So busy planting, creating, taking care of her universe. " Now she lives in this space. While I work from home, every hour or so I take a little break and visit the garden, where she would be taking care of her plants. I do my best to look after them to honor her memory but also to feel her presence next to me. My daydream includes my wife in the same physical space as me because she was there; on the same ground, at different times. I remember long ago I told my wife that I kiss the ground she walks on and she replied to that " You better go to the garden and start kissing! "

  During the almost 27 years of marriage, and almost 30 of getting to know each other, Christina and I talked about death very few times.  Most of the time it was I who brought the subject up.  Christina never liked these conversations to which she would tell me that I was strange and if she did not know that I was Hispanic, perhaps would have stepped away from me.  That is how much she did not like the subject, but since I brought it up her answer was always to fight for life as hard as we could; that was the plan, never to unplug, never to give up, and if the inevitable was about to happen then home would be the place to end the journey and stat the next.   Earlier in the year, Christina had a meeting with her family doctor. Her extended family and I were present at that meeting. When her doctor asked her what she wanted to do near the end, she refused to speak or give an answer. At that moment we looked at each other and I gave her my approval by nodding and looking her in her eyes.

The answer to this question has been tormenting me since my wife started her journey into the stars.  I did not have time to think about this while we were both racing for life through these fields.  We are all meant to transcend when the time arrives but to perish buried in the thickest pain is horrifying.  The pain of leaving children so young in life, departing so soon with many promises left without fulfilling.  Just thinking about this my head spins. Should we forget or should we not? Do I feel that I want to? Do we select memories to keep and others to avoid ? Is it possible?  By June 14th, 2021, my wife had been nonresponsive for almost a week.  She could not take any liquids or solids; she was readying for her journey.  Doctors tell me that her body was shutting down with low brain activity.  Her health had deteriorated so much that the time had come to provide her "comfort" with medication through subcutaneous ports set by a palliative nurse.  I was in charge of prov