LIVING IS A LIE

Sick of dying
Sick of death
Waiting for his final breath

I want to scream
I want to cry
I want now only
To say good bye
NOT TO HIM
To death and gloom
It fills every corner of
Every room

It’s replaced the blood
that used to flow through my veins
taken our lives
and all that remains
is waiting
waiting
for the other shoe to fall
watching
praying
when there is no hope at all

But wait, there is news
He got a reprieve
It’s not so very bad
Not yet his time to leave
Throw a party
Celebrate
Call our friends
Say he’s doing great

And he was for a while
He even would smile
And hold me tight
When I cried out in the night

Now the toll has been taken
Doctors, they were mistaken
Only God knows his time
how much longer he’s mine

Now he waits
Just to leave
I can’t make him believe
There is reason to stay
He doesn’t want life
If life is this way

No one comes around
No one even calls
He wants the final curtain
Waits for it to fall

I hate being awake
And sleep all I can
It’s too painful to be
It’s more than I can stand

He’s awake most of the time
Gets by on four hours
And manages fine
Naps in short bursts
Takes pain pills when he hurts

slips blissfully into a place
where I can not follow
I’m left here, alone
A shadow, my heart is hollow

We were supposed to enjoy this
A gift of more time
But he’s dying in his world and I’m dying in mine

Let us be – set us free – we don’t want to go on this way
Take us both, take us soon, it’s all that I pray
Let us be together again like we were so long ago
Yes we’re both breathing
But it’s for nothing but show

Swallow food
Swallow tears
Fake a smile
Hide our fears

It’s all fake
We’re not true
We left months ago
In each others arms
and no one knew
No one buried us
It must have slipped their minds
Like we have
Here alone
In this house that used to be a home

After three months of Hospice care, my husband was "graduated" from the program which, in his case, means his COPD has not resulted in his death in the predicted three to six months. I was, at first, elated and felt we had received a true miracle. When your life mate is dying still, no better, but not bad enough for Hospice care it leaves you in an odd sense of limbo. We had to prepare for and accept his death and strangely so, there are no instructions for coming out of that mode and trying to redefine what exactly that leaves. He has chosen not only to not fight, but now will not use the oxygen or inhalers that could make his quality of life a little better. He has increased his smoking which speeds up the respiratory failure and because of his condition he has no physical energy. It is like watching someone you love commit suicide in slow motion. I finally had to do something, write something, to try to release what I've been feeling.

I am still his care taker for the things he can no longer do for him self, but he requires less of my time and help than he did when his comfort was the main focus and he was literally loaded up on pain medication. This is an odd place to be, me, wanting to enjoy the time we have left together and him, seemingly try to race toward the end. I don't blame him for feeling the way he does, but I do resent it. I don't really want to die, but I feel guilty for living as well. It's like laughing at a funeral ... disrespectful and crass.