She's Gone

Sheri's sister, Doreen, passed away early this morning after a nearly 5-year battle with metastatic uteran cancer.

Sheri has been spending a lot of time with her, cleaning her house, mowing her lawn, washing dishes and sitting there talking. She would report to me that she was regaining strength while she continued the chemo pill. She was even walking to the bathroom on her own.

In a week, everything went tumbling downhill. She stopped treatment after discovering the cancer spread to her liver. Sheri popped in on Monday, unannounced, to her sister being prepped for Hospice care. Sheri's neice had said she just wanted to be done, she was tired of fighting. It would only be a few weeks.

6:20 AM Thursday morning Sheri's ringtone echoed through my bedroom. I answered, panic stricken "What's wrong?"

"Doreen had a heart attack. She's at the hospital."

My heart dropped into my stomach and I stayed on the phone with her for about another twenty minutes just listening to her breathe. What could I say?

I wanted to push her to get to the hospital. No, she's still in the ER. She's awake, I'll go up when she's settled.
She then texted me that she was unconscious and on a morphine drip. She'd pass in a few days in her sleep.

It's a blessing, really. I've been praying that Doreen's suffering ends quickly and painlessly. But I made sure to add in But let Sheri say goodbye.

She texted me the other day I'm prepared as I'm gonna be. I will always have my sister's sense of humor and her voice at times coming out of my mouth. I will learn to draw her strength and wisdom when dealing with my own children and know that she is in a better place and no longer suffering.

 I told her to make sure she tells her sister that. She didn't, but I'm sure Doreen knew that deep down, and she definately knows it now.

Oh how I wish I could protect her from this pain. And how I wish her sister had more time. Sheri said I'm just thinking of all the things my sister is going to miss.

I responded that I firmly believe that she won't. She will always be there, looking over her children. She'll meet her grandbabies in Heaven before they're even born. And she'll never leave her little sister.

Yesterday her breathing was slow and she was ice cold. Sheri had taken her daughters and her mother to see her twice, once in the morning, once in the evening. As they left last night around 9 PM Sheri texted me I rubbed my sister's leg, said goodbye, and told her I love her for the last time.

She called me once she got home and nothing sounded out of place. She was arguing with Jillian to get in bed and close her bedroom door. She was laughing as she watched Frasier. She talked nonchalantly about calling me when it happens.

Around 11 PM we got off the phone, both of us exhausted. I drifted easily into sleep as I repeatedly prayed for Doreen's death to be an easy one. I also prayed to give me strength so I could stop crying.

I woke up at some time in the night with my stomach lurching. I actually laid there taking deep breaths to try to force myself to not throw up. I knew my stomach was cramping because of exhaustion, whenever I'm that tired I always get sick to my stomach. I was laying on my back, not opening my eyes, for what seemed like maybe 10, 15 minutes. 2:30 AM, my phone rang. I knew it immediately was "the call" and I picked up. Sheri calmly said "Ok, she's gone."

I struggled to swallow my tears and I choked out "I'm so, SO sorry" and then the dam broke. I asked if she was OK, she said yes, she was all out of tears. I said "Then I'll cry enough for the both of us."

We stayed on the phone for the next hour. I got up and walked around and sat on my chair gazing out my living room window. It was a cool night, a light breeze and present was the sound of chirping crickets. She has said to me "At 1:55 I shot up, like something woke me up.  Ten minutes later Christopher called me to tell me that she died at 1:45."

I suggested her waking up was because Doreen's spirit had come to visit her. "Maybe," she mused.

She passed peacefully, that they have solace in. Since she was in an induced coma she literally just stopped breathing. While I wish that she had been awake for everyone to say their goodbyes it would have been so much harder on everyone. Sheri told me that her heart attack was brought on by a panic attack. They induced her so she wouldn't panic, and as her daughter said, so she wouldn't die gasping for air.

I feel very disconnected, very out of the loop. Since 99% of Sheri's family does not know the nature of our relationship I cannot be there for her in the capacity that I want to be. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Doreen. Had I been there I would have felt completely out of place and like I was intruding. I still feel that way. Sheri's brother is flying in from California today and staying for the next week. She said if anything good has come from this is she gets to spend an entire week with her brother. That she is greatly looking forward to. And beer. There will be a lot of beer.

I met Dennis a few summers ago. He's exactly like Sheri, same quick wit, same sense of humor. She always speaks so highly of him. After the wake tomorrow I would love nothing more than to go back to Sheri's house with them and just sit down and have beers with her and her brothers. Her oldest brother, Duncan, is driving up from Tennessee and will arrive tonight. He's the only sibling that does know about me (and ironically the one Sheri can't stand the most). He and I have never met but at least if I were there he'd understand why.

Maybe something like this will push Sheri to be more open with her family. At the very least her brothers. I hate that Doreen has passed not knowing about us.

I hate that Doreen has passed, period.

I always thought she'd beat this. I always saw a different future for us. Doreen would be my sister-in-law. She'd sit on the other end of the table at Thanksgiving and make hysterical remarks with such a straight face, she'd text Sheri at Easter every time The Ten Commandments would come on. She'd get to see her children become parents, and see Sheri's children graduate high school and college. I know that in some capacity she still will. Just...not in the one we'd like.

Sheri and her family are holding it together remarkably well at this point in time. I'm sure that at the wake tomorrow, and the funeral Monday, it will be completely different. And it will kill me to not reach out and grab Sheri's hand. I probably won't even be sitting with her. I'll be with the rest of her friends. It will rip my heart out to see her cry and I can't do a damn thing about it.

I am just thankful that Sheri did spend time with her these past few weeks. She'll remember that she was there. I just wish it wasn't necessary.

I can't believe she's gone.

Be at peace, Doreen