They called me to tell me I could go see his body. I had to maek sure he look ok to go home. I had not seen him since he lift the house a week earlier. I was scared and happy at the same time. I had only seen two dead people, my grandmother and my great grandmother. I had not been to alot of funerals. Theirs were different. yes, I loved them but this was MY HUSBAND. I were not suppose to be doing this at the age of 32. This was for old women. I never dreamed I would be doing this.
I let my mother be with him first. I didnt want to be botherd once i went in there. I didnt know how I was going to react. I needed time to think. So I let her go in first and I looked at her. I just watched her cry. I just watched my mother with my dead husband. I could not believe this was happeneing this had to be a dream, no a nightmare.....I just had a baby, we were just getting settled. We were making plans...... He could not be dead. this could not be my husband lying in a casket. I could not be a widow at thirty two. I had four children under nine without a dad two under that age of two. what was I going to do. I had to wake up cause this was not real....No god could do this to a person I knew this was a mistake. Please God i thought look and make sure you have the right person. I cannot do this. I have babies.I need this man...... I am alone...... PLease wake me up.
I never did. The nightmare just continued. It just got worse. It went into things That I could have never in my wildest dream thought of.
I finally went in. He looked so good. I was amased at how he looked. His face had changed. He was darker, and his face was round not long like it was before. He was so hard. he didnt feel or smell the same. I touched his hands. they were cold and so hard. I leaned over to put my head on his chest. it felt like a board. hard and stiff. i just laided there. thinking about our life. thinking about how much i wished he could just give me one more second. i wanted to tell him I was so sorry for not knowing he was sick. I wanted to tell him I didnt know he was having a heart attack I wanted to tell him I loved him I wanted to tell him I am not strong enough for this and I needed him to come back. I cant do this alone......I wanted so many things but it didnt matter. I could wish for days but nothing would change the fact hat he was dead. He was gone. I talked to him. never said the things in my head. I told him I was going to be a great mom. I told him the babies were never going to forget him I told him we would be ok. I told him to rest and enjoy Jamaica. I didnt want him to worry about me. I was doing enough of that for ten people. I worried about everything. from the day Ken died until this very day I am a worrier. I think abotu death all the time. I think abotu how I will manage. I have aged 16 yrs in 8 yrs. I worry abotu my kids when they get sick. I mean i really worry. I am so scared they might die. I take every illness so seriously. I over obses about them and everything. Seeing my husband die killed me. It took away the old me and left behind a woman i dont even know. She is strange to me. I am still getting to know her. I guess in some ways she saved me> I think The old me could not deal with with what happened and this new woman came in to take over. I sometimes wonder what happened to the old me. I Wonder if I will ever see her again. I wonder if I would know her if I saw her. She has been gone so long I don't even remember her. I just know I miss her.
Next chapter Jamaica
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
The Aftermath
I waited a hour before I call the hospital. I knew he was dead so I was in no rush to hear those words officially. I called, the nurse asked who I was Her tone changed and told me to hold for the doctor. He got on the phone an said the words I knew I would hear. I am sorry Your husband is dead. We could not save him.
I said thank you and what do I need to do now. He told me the social worker would call me when the office opened. I hung up the phone. I called my mom, she told me she was on her way. I was happy I didn't have to ask her to come. Sh lived in Los Angeles. I knew it would be a few days but at least she was coming.
I was a widow. That all I could say. She told me to not think of that and get some sleep. SLEEP!!!!!! No way. I had things to do and people to call. I had to call his parents, his daughter, his siblings. I called his brother first. I waited until it was a decent hour. I remember the call very wee. Junior, Ken died last night. HE said How was he drunk. My husband used to be an alcholic, No I said HE had not been drinking. He got sick and died. I do know know what happened yet. They are doing an autopsy. I later found out he had a massive heart attack. He said I have to call you later. That was the end of my conversation with him. He called me again the next day. HE told me he was sorry but the shock was too much for him. I told him I understood. However, I didn't. I really didn't. He had not seen Ken the whole time he was in America. This man was rich. He went all over the world. Ken had done so much for him and he never said thank you. He never called him. Ken was always the one to call. So I didn't understand how he was hurt, feeling guilty maybe, but hurt no.
I called His dad. This was not his real father but he raised Ken. I Loved this man and I knew this was going to hurt him. I made the dreaded call. Marsetti I said Hey my lady...... I am sorry I have to tell you this but Ken died last night. The phone went dead. I thought hte man had died himself. I was so scared. I stayed on the phone at least ten mins. Nothing.I had to hang up. this was an international call. I felt bad but how could i stay on the phone with silence when it was costing over $1 a min. and I still had to make more calls.
Now the daughter, Keisha was 19. I knew she was going to take it hard and she did. she cried and cried. Her mother got ont he phone and asked was he drinking. I was so angry. They all knew he had stopped drinking and there are a million ways to die, why think of such a bad thing.
No he was not. He was vomiting all night and then he collapsed. Those words were going to be my downfall. I didn't know it then but i would learn this in a few days. She told me to call her if I needed anything. She said she would help me with the arrangements and Asked if I was going to send him to Jamaica
I told her I had not thought of that yet I Would talk to his mother and see.
Then I called the step mother. Another sad call. she called Marsetti, she was his ex wife. She told me he was OK , in shock but OK. I was happy to hear that.
She said the same thing everyone else did. I heard the samething over and over again for the next week.
My mother told me how brave I was. She said you comforted all those people answered all their questions and never broke down. She asked if I had cried yet. I said a little but I am too busy. I have the kids and a funeral, and I am nursing and I am dealing with too much. I still have to find a way to pay for all of this. I dint have time to cry.
I went on and made more calls. I called all his friends in his phone book and I called all the family I could. I was done. I could not tell another person my husband was dead without dying myself. I was done.
The family wanted him to go back to Jamaica. I did too. He loved it there and I didn't want him to be where he didn't want to be. So I let his mother make all the arrangements there. I did what i needed to do In America.
The next day I went to the store to buy his clothes for the funeral. I looked an looked but everything i looked at made me cry. The sales person came over to ask if she could help. I told her I had to buy clothes for my husband. It was his funeral. She looked at me and said You are so young. Death does not have an age i said. I told her I wanted something nice but not fancy. Very neat and not flashy. I instantly became the talk of the store. Everyone had to walk by me or point at me. was I the first person to have their husband die. I knew i wasn't but I felt like it. She picked out the perfect outfit. Black and green. It was so nice. I knew Ken would have liked it. I took it to the funeral home and Gave it to the man. Then I had to pick a coffin. I had to pick a certain type because he was going to travel overseas. Each country has rules as to how dead people can enter or leave their country. So this narrowed down my options a bit. I picked the cheapest one I could. It sounds bad bit honestly all it is going to do it rot away. All the flash is for the people who are alive. I for one didn't care how fancy the box looked. I wanted it to be safe, good quality to make the trip and I wanted it to be empty and not have MY husband in it. But that was not going to happen. I did my job. He has clothes and a casket. Now I had to wait two days for my viewing.
I said thank you and what do I need to do now. He told me the social worker would call me when the office opened. I hung up the phone. I called my mom, she told me she was on her way. I was happy I didn't have to ask her to come. Sh lived in Los Angeles. I knew it would be a few days but at least she was coming.
I was a widow. That all I could say. She told me to not think of that and get some sleep. SLEEP!!!!!! No way. I had things to do and people to call. I had to call his parents, his daughter, his siblings. I called his brother first. I waited until it was a decent hour. I remember the call very wee. Junior, Ken died last night. HE said How was he drunk. My husband used to be an alcholic, No I said HE had not been drinking. He got sick and died. I do know know what happened yet. They are doing an autopsy. I later found out he had a massive heart attack. He said I have to call you later. That was the end of my conversation with him. He called me again the next day. HE told me he was sorry but the shock was too much for him. I told him I understood. However, I didn't. I really didn't. He had not seen Ken the whole time he was in America. This man was rich. He went all over the world. Ken had done so much for him and he never said thank you. He never called him. Ken was always the one to call. So I didn't understand how he was hurt, feeling guilty maybe, but hurt no.
I called His dad. This was not his real father but he raised Ken. I Loved this man and I knew this was going to hurt him. I made the dreaded call. Marsetti I said Hey my lady...... I am sorry I have to tell you this but Ken died last night. The phone went dead. I thought hte man had died himself. I was so scared. I stayed on the phone at least ten mins. Nothing.I had to hang up. this was an international call. I felt bad but how could i stay on the phone with silence when it was costing over $1 a min. and I still had to make more calls.
Now the daughter, Keisha was 19. I knew she was going to take it hard and she did. she cried and cried. Her mother got ont he phone and asked was he drinking. I was so angry. They all knew he had stopped drinking and there are a million ways to die, why think of such a bad thing.
No he was not. He was vomiting all night and then he collapsed. Those words were going to be my downfall. I didn't know it then but i would learn this in a few days. She told me to call her if I needed anything. She said she would help me with the arrangements and Asked if I was going to send him to Jamaica
I told her I had not thought of that yet I Would talk to his mother and see.
Then I called the step mother. Another sad call. she called Marsetti, she was his ex wife. She told me he was OK , in shock but OK. I was happy to hear that.
She said the same thing everyone else did. I heard the samething over and over again for the next week.
My mother told me how brave I was. She said you comforted all those people answered all their questions and never broke down. She asked if I had cried yet. I said a little but I am too busy. I have the kids and a funeral, and I am nursing and I am dealing with too much. I still have to find a way to pay for all of this. I dint have time to cry.
I went on and made more calls. I called all his friends in his phone book and I called all the family I could. I was done. I could not tell another person my husband was dead without dying myself. I was done.
The family wanted him to go back to Jamaica. I did too. He loved it there and I didn't want him to be where he didn't want to be. So I let his mother make all the arrangements there. I did what i needed to do In America.
The next day I went to the store to buy his clothes for the funeral. I looked an looked but everything i looked at made me cry. The sales person came over to ask if she could help. I told her I had to buy clothes for my husband. It was his funeral. She looked at me and said You are so young. Death does not have an age i said. I told her I wanted something nice but not fancy. Very neat and not flashy. I instantly became the talk of the store. Everyone had to walk by me or point at me. was I the first person to have their husband die. I knew i wasn't but I felt like it. She picked out the perfect outfit. Black and green. It was so nice. I knew Ken would have liked it. I took it to the funeral home and Gave it to the man. Then I had to pick a coffin. I had to pick a certain type because he was going to travel overseas. Each country has rules as to how dead people can enter or leave their country. So this narrowed down my options a bit. I picked the cheapest one I could. It sounds bad bit honestly all it is going to do it rot away. All the flash is for the people who are alive. I for one didn't care how fancy the box looked. I wanted it to be safe, good quality to make the trip and I wanted it to be empty and not have MY husband in it. But that was not going to happen. I did my job. He has clothes and a casket. Now I had to wait two days for my viewing.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
That MOMENT
Ken walked over to the bed and sat down. He said he was going to go to the doctors in the morning if he lived that long. I sat up and looked at him, What do you mean if you live that long. What is wrong. He said my arm hurt. It fell asleep and woke wake up.
I knew this was serious. I reached for the phone to call 911. By the time i dialed the number Ken yelled my name and hit the bed. His eyes changed colors, he was not breathing, his mouth would not close. I yell to the man on the phone he is dead my husband is dead. He told me to do CPR on him. I had to pull him off the bed on to the floor. I managed to move him. Now Ken was a very thin man but that night I swear he weighed 300 lbs.
I tried to do CPR but his mouth would not close and all the air from his lungs was coming into my mouth. I remember hearing a sound I never heard before. I pray I will never hear it again. The sound of death. It was loud, raspy and deep. I heard that sound for a year after that. Every night, Every day, Any time I closed my eyes and it was quiet I heard death.
I laid there and breathed in is last breaths. I took his breath into my body. I took him in for the last time. He was now a part of me. He would be in me as long as I lived. He was in my breaths.
When the Ems arrived They worked on him. I knew he was dead. The kids were all woke. They didn't know what was going on. I called my mom. I always said to my family If someone dies in the middle of the night do not call me. Just wait until morning. I need my sleep and if you call me I will not go back to sleep. Well Look who was doing the calling. ME. I told my mom Ken was dead. She yelled and screamed. She loved him so much. She always talks about how his face was kind and he use to always smile. She called my uncle and we had a three way conversation. My uncle said some mess. I truly do not remember. I do remember whatever he said pissed me off. I just lost my husband and he said something dumb. I wanted to smack him.
The medic had to use the phone to call the hospital. I got off the phone and sat with the kids. They were all sleepy so we went into the kids room and I laid them down. They took my husband out still working in him. They worked at least forty-five mins. on him. They did not see a black man and give up on him. they saw a man with a young family. They saw a man with a family that needed him. I remember one of them saying. He has a new baby .....This has to work. It didn't . Nothing they did worked. They took my Ken out the door. But he had left he building and hour earlier. I knew it when he hit the bed. MY ken was gone. MY ken had left me. He had gone home. He had gotten his wish. He was in Jamaica. HE was with his family and friends looking over the ocean. HE was at peace. I would never have peace again.
I knew this was serious. I reached for the phone to call 911. By the time i dialed the number Ken yelled my name and hit the bed. His eyes changed colors, he was not breathing, his mouth would not close. I yell to the man on the phone he is dead my husband is dead. He told me to do CPR on him. I had to pull him off the bed on to the floor. I managed to move him. Now Ken was a very thin man but that night I swear he weighed 300 lbs.
I tried to do CPR but his mouth would not close and all the air from his lungs was coming into my mouth. I remember hearing a sound I never heard before. I pray I will never hear it again. The sound of death. It was loud, raspy and deep. I heard that sound for a year after that. Every night, Every day, Any time I closed my eyes and it was quiet I heard death.
I laid there and breathed in is last breaths. I took his breath into my body. I took him in for the last time. He was now a part of me. He would be in me as long as I lived. He was in my breaths.
When the Ems arrived They worked on him. I knew he was dead. The kids were all woke. They didn't know what was going on. I called my mom. I always said to my family If someone dies in the middle of the night do not call me. Just wait until morning. I need my sleep and if you call me I will not go back to sleep. Well Look who was doing the calling. ME. I told my mom Ken was dead. She yelled and screamed. She loved him so much. She always talks about how his face was kind and he use to always smile. She called my uncle and we had a three way conversation. My uncle said some mess. I truly do not remember. I do remember whatever he said pissed me off. I just lost my husband and he said something dumb. I wanted to smack him.
The medic had to use the phone to call the hospital. I got off the phone and sat with the kids. They were all sleepy so we went into the kids room and I laid them down. They took my husband out still working in him. They worked at least forty-five mins. on him. They did not see a black man and give up on him. they saw a man with a young family. They saw a man with a family that needed him. I remember one of them saying. He has a new baby .....This has to work. It didn't . Nothing they did worked. They took my Ken out the door. But he had left he building and hour earlier. I knew it when he hit the bed. MY ken was gone. MY ken had left me. He had gone home. He had gotten his wish. He was in Jamaica. HE was with his family and friends looking over the ocean. HE was at peace. I would never have peace again.
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