Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
directs you where to go
So make the best of this test
and don't ask why
It's not a question
But a lesson learned in time
It's something unpredictable
But in the end is right
I hope you had the time
of your life
So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf
in good health and good time
Time of your Life by Green Day
The last photo I took of Jenny before her heart failed, about an hour later, while she was having her lunch. I have written briefly about it here:There seemed to be so much hope as I took this photo.
For me, it was the hope that we could take her home (she had negotiated it to be Wed, so Jo and I could go to our Aus Dragon Boat training session that Tue night) and care for her until she quietly left us, like Jenny and Jo had done with Margaret, their mother, 10 years earlier.
It was not meant to be and it is amazing how quickly things can change and how you need to accept, adapt and let go to the circumstances which we are confronted with as we move through life.
It is in these moments that I came to fully understand the following words from Paulo Coehlo's novel, The Fifth Mountain (which I would read 6 months later):
Fear reaches only to the point where the unavoidable begins; from there on, it loses its meaning. And all we have left is the hope that we are making the right decision.A story for another day.
For now, I remember Jenny and the final week of her life, that she spent in Intensive Care Unit of St George Private Hospital, before she left us on Tue 30 Jun 2009.
Postscript
Amazingly, about an hour after posting the above (maybe about the time Jenny's heart failed two years earlier), a post titled Regrets came through from Paulo Coelho. It is based on this post:
It touchs on the time I had hoped for at home with Jenny and things we might have been able to talk about.
In the end, she left us very suddenly (and with much trauma - unlike her Mothers passing which was very peaceful and serene, if you can understand that) and we were not able to say goodbye.
I carry some of the regrets Bronnie mentions, but in the end I would like to think we lived a good life that allowed us to make the most of the time we had together.
The Cancer made us better people and we did live life to full - Do what you can, when you can. I would say. For Jenny, it was Don't Wonder 'What If?'. Every time we parted, I would say I love you and often many times in between.
One thing I know for sure, it is that through Jenny's life and passing, I have become a better person - I feel guilty about this in many ways, but at the same time I draw some comfort.
