Zoebird
3-10-12, 4:05am
DH is finding himself in grief.
One of his childhood friends was moved to hospice care -- metastacized melanoma got to his brain. He received treatment and was doing well in Feb on his 40th birthday, but has declined rapidly since. It's basically a vigil now.
MIL has circled the wagons and taken responsibility for the young man's father. He's 83, and lives at an assisted living facility. She'll be providing rides to him to get to/from hospice to visit his son. DH is already writing a beautiful piece for him -- with all of his memories of the two of them together (DH and his friend) as well as those that he remembers of his friend and his friend's father. My MIL will be providing old photographs that she has of the two boys together.
DH is also attempting to set up a skype session. His friend cannot communicate, but smiles and seems to recognize people. He also can yes/no through blinking or hand squeezing. We don't know if it will be possible, but another mutual childhood friend is trying to work it out using his iPad.
DH's friend also leaves behind a wife and two young daughters (7 and 10). His MIL (wife's mother) arrives soon, and she'll be keeping the girls structure going and making sure they visit their dad after school and before bed time and such. His wife will be staying with him at hospice as much as she can.
Most of the childhood friends have visited -- many were there for the party in Feb, and since then many have driven to the hospice daily after work to see him. He's been there for about 4 days now.
At this point, it's just a vigil.
DH is very sad in a lot of ways. He is -- of course -- deeply sad for his friend, a young man like himself. He is also very sad for his wife and daughters -- he feels that he would be hard pressed to leave us, to make peace with doing so, and can only imagine that his friend may have the same anguish. He feels sad for his friend's father, who saw the loss of his wife to cancer 20 years ago, and sees now also the loss of his son to cancer. DH cannot imagine the heartbreak of that loss either -- no matter how old you get, that man is still your boy: your baby boy, your little boy, that big boy, that teenager, that young man, still and always your boy.
I only met him once. He seemed a nice young man. I am sorry for my husband's coming loss. I'm sorry for his friend's family and friends grief.
One of his childhood friends was moved to hospice care -- metastacized melanoma got to his brain. He received treatment and was doing well in Feb on his 40th birthday, but has declined rapidly since. It's basically a vigil now.
MIL has circled the wagons and taken responsibility for the young man's father. He's 83, and lives at an assisted living facility. She'll be providing rides to him to get to/from hospice to visit his son. DH is already writing a beautiful piece for him -- with all of his memories of the two of them together (DH and his friend) as well as those that he remembers of his friend and his friend's father. My MIL will be providing old photographs that she has of the two boys together.
DH is also attempting to set up a skype session. His friend cannot communicate, but smiles and seems to recognize people. He also can yes/no through blinking or hand squeezing. We don't know if it will be possible, but another mutual childhood friend is trying to work it out using his iPad.
DH's friend also leaves behind a wife and two young daughters (7 and 10). His MIL (wife's mother) arrives soon, and she'll be keeping the girls structure going and making sure they visit their dad after school and before bed time and such. His wife will be staying with him at hospice as much as she can.
Most of the childhood friends have visited -- many were there for the party in Feb, and since then many have driven to the hospice daily after work to see him. He's been there for about 4 days now.
At this point, it's just a vigil.
DH is very sad in a lot of ways. He is -- of course -- deeply sad for his friend, a young man like himself. He is also very sad for his wife and daughters -- he feels that he would be hard pressed to leave us, to make peace with doing so, and can only imagine that his friend may have the same anguish. He feels sad for his friend's father, who saw the loss of his wife to cancer 20 years ago, and sees now also the loss of his son to cancer. DH cannot imagine the heartbreak of that loss either -- no matter how old you get, that man is still your boy: your baby boy, your little boy, that big boy, that teenager, that young man, still and always your boy.
I only met him once. He seemed a nice young man. I am sorry for my husband's coming loss. I'm sorry for his friend's family and friends grief.