She kissed him goodnight, knowing he would not remember her in the morning. She smoothed the blankets over his shoulders. Bending over him, she kissed his forehead gently and touch his hair. She kissed him again whispering in his ear, "I love you sweetheart." Straightening, she pulled the wheelchair closer tot he bed and sat down in it, with a sigh. Roxanne sat looking around the room that had become home to her husband for the last several months. The room was not large, but spacious enough to have two hospital beds, dressers, and nightstands. Each nightstand had a small lamp night light, glowing a soft yellow, like a candle flame. Even though the night lights glowed, the overhead room light was still on, allowing the nurse to easily care for the patients. "Roxanne, he will be asleep in a minute. You might as well go home," the nurse Sheena said as she entered the room. "I know, he is almost there now. I want to sit here for a while longer," Roxanne relied without taking her eyes off her almost sleeping husband. She imagined he opened his eyes and gave her a smile, again closing his eyes. "Ok," Sheena said as she went to the man in the other bed. "Hi, Harold, are you ready to go to sleep?" "Yeah, Jerry and I ran several laps around the track today. He really knows how to run fast," Harold said with a smile. "Sheena laughed, "Good, that is why you guys are tired tonight. Here are your night meds." Sheena turned to face Roxanne. "Roxanne, I forgot to ask you, last week Jerry woke up wondering where Brenda was. I told him you would be in after lunch; you had an appointment. Who is Brenda? "Brenda was Jerry's second wife. Oh dear," Roxanne signed, "that was about fifty-five years ago. Well, maybe that helps to explain some of his questions. He asked me where his daughters were, they weren't home from school yet. He was abit upset that the girls were on a sleepover without his knowing about it." "Yeah, that explains a lot. Thanks for letting me know about this. I didn't realize he was showing this much dementia." Sheena replied. She quickly glanced over at Jerry. "Thank goodness he is asleep. I shouldn't use that term in front of him." Roxanne blinked back tears about Harold's talk of running the track. Jerry used to be a boxer in his younger years and ran several miles daily. Recently, he still spoke about running as if it were today. With two crushed vertebrae from a sit-down fall, he was essentially paralyzed from the waist down. She sighed deeply, if only such accidents didn't happen....if only. Roxanne gazed back at her sleeping husband. She took out her journal and pen, flipping through pages, opening to an entry three weeks ago. 		Jerry is unable to straighten his arms. The physical therapist is giving up hope that movement will come back. Jerry is on heavy		 doses of morphine. The morphine barely masks the pain.		Hospice tells me to call family members to come say their goodbyes. The local priest came to give last rites two days ago. The 		doctors don't expect him to live out this week. The pages had ink smeared from tears that had fallen while writing this page. More fell as she remembered. She flipped the journal pages again and read from two weeks ago.		Jerry woke up from sleep this morning and is able to get out of bed with help. I was told he was hungry for breakfast and able to feed		 himself. The staff of the group home are ecstatic. They feel prayers have been answered for him to live. I am not too sure, I have 		seen animals do a final rally before dying. This is too miraculous to be lasting. Hospice has been dismissed, Jerry doesn't need morphine. Turning pages to another recent entry.		Jerry is not doing well today. He seems to have regressed. He is in better shape than a few weeks ago. Hospice has been called in again		 for pain management. Jerry is loosing the ability to transfer from the bed to the wheelchair. The nurse used a Hoyer lift to move him. She		 said Jerry really enjoyed the ride. Roxanne turned pages to write another entry about Jerry. His condition had worsened day by day. She held the pen, poised to write, but didn't know where to start, emotions were too high. Silent tears stained the blank pages. Sheena came in again about two hours later to check on her patients. "Roxanne, it is getting late, you really need to go home and rest. I will watch over him and call you if anything happens." "Yeah, you are right. I don't want to leave him, I just want to sit here. But, I will leave." Roxanne closed and dropped her journal and pen into her bag; she had not written a single word. She place the wheelchair against the wall and put on her coat. The blankets had not been disturbed but Roxanne smoothed again. With tears in her eyes, she kissed him goodnight and goodbye. "I love you sweetheart. I will be back in the morning." Roxanne left the group home, closing the front door. The click of Sheena locking the door felt like a knife in her heart. Jerry's condition had deteriorated rapidly over the last two weeks. The morphine would probably kill him at the doses the doctor prescribed. Roxanne sat in the car, tears of mourning falling freely. She had never really understood the old phrase, 'to die a thousand deaths.' Now, she felt the slow unrelenting, ongoing hurt of watching a love one die, one day at a time. The next morning, Roxanne arrived at the group home bright and early. Jerry was still in bed and had not moved at all that night. His breathing was even, but shallow. The day nurse, Lise was taking Jerry's vitals. She looked up when Roxanne entered the room. "Good morning. Jerry had a quiet night. Sheena said he didn't move or cry out last night. I just gave him a dose of morphine; he seemed to be in a lot of pain this morning. I couldn't get him to eat or drink anything. I will contact the doctor about an IV." Roxanne pulled up the wheelchair to the bed and sat down, putting her bag on the floor. She sat there watching her husband sleeping, her heart breaking. After a long while she reached out and held Jerry's hand. It was cold. "Lisa! Jerry's hand is cold, what can we do to warm him up?" Roxanne stood up and leaned over Jerry, feeling his face and temples. Lisa came over. She felt Jerry hand took his temperature. It was below normal. She called the doctor to report the temperature drop. Lise left, coming back with hot water bottles, placing them at Jerry's neck, back, and feet. "There, that should help until the doctor or hospice gets here." Roxanne sat, holding Jerry hand, too upset to cry. Sitting forward, with an expression of anxiety, Roxanne whispered to Jerry. "I love you, but if it is time for you to go, it is ok." Jerry didn't respond. Hospice nurses arrive and checked on Jerry, coming and going, talking with Lisa and the doctor. The hours ticked by. Jerry had not changed or moved. Sheena showed up for the night shift. She came into the room after being briefed on Jerry's condition. "Roxanne," she put her hand on Roxanne's shoulder, "you should go home and get some rest. You look exhausted, there is nothing to be done now but wait. Go home, I will call you f anything develops tonight." Roxanne got up, with tears of sorrow. She bent over Jerry and kissed him goodnight. "I love you sweetheart," and kissed him again. She knew he wouldn't remember him in the morning. Roxanne gathered up her bag and left the group home. Again the click of the door sending sharp pain of unresolved grief into her heart. Sitting in the car, tears of anguish and finality flowed freely. That night, Jerry passed, he did not remember her in the morning.

Try Premium

Try Premium

She Kissed Him Goodnight

rstrutz

Roxanne Strutz

Share

She Kissed Him Goodnight

Synopsis

Chapters

Word Count

Read Time

Publish Date

Story Updates

This story has no updates.

Reviews

This story has not been rated yet. Login to review this story.

Advertisement

Challenge

About Author

Roxanne Strutz

Advertisement

Other stories by rstrutz

Disconnect in 17 Voicemails

Erzabet

Browse