Our Last Night Home

I know I should be trying to sleep, but I can't keep the thoughts from running through my mind over and over. Thoughts of this night one year ago, the last night Jared spent at home. The last night before heading to the hospital and the few short days until the nightmare of his passing. I have relived that week again and again each day since, but actually nearing the year mark of the whole experience seems to make it come alive again. I've wanted to write it all down, everything that transpired from the first night I got the flu after Christmas which led to Jared and Liberty getting the flu, to every detail that transpired that fateful month. While I don't think it's possible, I don't want to ever forget it. And I want Liberty to understand all of it as she gets old enough. Perhaps if I write it out the memories can escape and leave me alone for just one night.

Unlike so many weeks since then which often pass by in a blur, that last week remains so vivid.Jared was so very sick, going on a month battling with coughing and a mysterious fever that left him exhausted every morning. He kept telling me he felt like he was running a marathon in his sleep. He would wake up sweating through the sheets every few nights, but our a attempts to visit the doctors hadn't proved very fruitful as of yet.

While Jared rarely had to use his oxygen during our marriage, or would give into using it rather, after that Monday his breathing getting more and more difficult. We always kept a tank around for emergencies, but he had been on oxygen as soon as he came home from work on Monday, as soon as I saw how blue his hands were. I hadn't wanted him to go to work that Monday, but he was so worried about letting the students down who had just started the new semester. I had fallen asleep in the nursery again early that morning, and I remember waking up to him already dressed in his black suit, eager to summon the energy to teach that day. I asked him to not go and just to simply call in sick, but he was loyal to those students and determined to be there.

There were many things that happened that day, divinely inspired things that I now know were preparing us for what was to come. Jared's district director told him to stay home after seeing how sick he was that day. We spent Monday and Tuesday on the couch, Libby snuggling near her daddy. We had to keep her from puling on his oxygen tubing. She thought it was great fun. These pictures are so precious to me now, and I will regret forever not taking more of these two together. We watched the last movie we would ever see together: Stardust. The theme song would later be added to the video of images of Jared we played at his viewing. Stardust remains on our Netflix list. I can't bring myself to watch it again. I won't forget sitting all together on the couch, our perfect little family.

Libby and I went to church the last Sunday together while Jared stayed home to rest. We thought a few days of catching up on sleep would make a world of difference. Libby and I headed over to my parents after church to give Jared more rest. 

We had asked the family the night before to fast for us that Tuesday. As a nursing mom I couldn't even fast myself for my husband, and I prayed God would know in my heart I had a desire to. It was a blessing that day my father in-law received a phone call from a friend in the Presidency of the Seventy for the LDS church. When he heard how sick Jared had been, he said he would be putting Jared's name on the special prayer roll of the First Presidency that coming Thursday. I felt our fasting had brought the blessing quickly and I knew Jared was going to be alright.

Auntie Rona visiting with Liberty January 27, 2014

Hearing how sick Jared still was, my sister Rona came out that night to visit. She knew Jared hadn't eaten much those few days and brought take out from Olive Garden. Usually that was a fare Jared would have avoided. He hated when I'd suggest it for date night. But that night he loved the fettuccine alfredo and salad. I don't think Rona even saw Jared that night as he stayed in bed the whole time trying to rest. They shouted their "hellos" and "how are yous" down the hall, but I didn't think to suggest Rona walk back and talk to him. I thought there would be plenty time when he was better. More regrets that come from not knowing our time was so limited with him.

It's interesting, now that I think about it more the last two meals before the hospital both came from my sisters. During his last day at work, Jared didn't bring a lunch with him. I had put the left overs together in the fridge Sunday night, but when I called to check in on him, Jared admitted he didn't bring anything with him. He said he didn't have the energy to even get it out of the fridge and into a bag. I planned to bring him lunch, but when Marina picked up Liberty for the day to give me a chance to tidy up and rest myself, she offered to take Jared lunch. She brought him soup and a turkey-bacon-avocado sandwich from Kneader's. He loved it, because I rarely made anything with bacon for him. I am so glad my two sisters have that memory of serving Jared, and we were both so very grateful.

Libby loves Auntie "Roni"

I called for a few more oxygen tanks to be delivered, foolishly thinking 4 would be enough to tie us over the rough patch and get Jared healthy enough again. When I spoke with the medical supplier, I distinctly remember him asking if we needed a months worth. I scoffed. Nah, we only needed a few. I even arrogantly thought thought to take picture of them, planning to write a blog post about our difficult trial of Jared being sick and then his miraculous recovery. Pictures of the tanks would be great for that, but I never realized how poignant these pictures would become to me. I truly expected a miracle, much like all the ones we'd seen in Jared's life already. I had come to expect them. Looking back I don't know if I was simply naive or just hopeful. 

While Monday had been hard, Tuesday proved even more difficult. After getting Liberty to sleep, knowing it would not last long as we were still trying to get into a schedule with her, I would go back into our room with Jared and try to help him be comfortable. We had switched to using his oxygen condenser to save the last tank for the morning, when I inevitable had to call and order more. Those tanks would arrive just as we were leaving for the hospital, just in time to have one to take with us. But the rest would sit in the apartment for weeks after, a harsh reminder. 

The condenser machine was big and bulky, but more than anything it was loud. The memory of thinking how would any of us sleep? remains. I was especially worried for our baby, who slept as light as a feather already; however, it didn't seem to bother her sleeping. Not anymore than usual at least. Jared would sleep off and on, and I remember laying by him crying quietly to myself. I was so worried. I had never seen him this sick before, and I hated not being able to really help him. The coughing was so difficult, and it was so painful. As always, Jared never complained. He wished to feel better, yes. But he didn't whine. He didn't murmur. Most of the night I held him, as the coughing turned so painful and he was tried not to move. He laid his head on my lap and would hug his own chest as he coughed. I considered calling the neighbors to come be with Liberty so I could just get Jared to the hospital. But he insisted he was fine. He always did, and I told him that I would trust his judgement. He knew how he was feeling better than me, and I asked him to promise he would admit if it was bad enough to go. The regret of not dragging him out to the car, because I would have had to drag him, has still not left me. Even when you acknowledge the will of Lord in your life, the desires to have done things in a different way linger. The pain of knowing I didn't do everything I could have and should have those last few days weighs heavy on me. 

At one point, Jared asked me if I was scared. Before I could even answer, crying from the next room was heard loud and clear. Jared and both sighed, knowing the cycle of the night was only beginning. As I fed our sweet baby and rocked her back to sleep, I decided to browse my phone apps for anything to keep me awake. I had recently added a daily scripture app, and hadn't checked it for a few days. Each scripture is accompanied by a quote and a hymn. I reached the scripture for that night and read...

Matthew 16:19

As soon as I read those words, the tears burst from my eyes. I knew I needed to read those words that night, but I didn't fully know why. I did have the impression that reminder of being bound to Jared through our temple sealing would be needed in the time to come, but I truthfully pushed any thoughts of why away. And then I came to the quote which was from President Henry B. Eyring's talk entitled "Families under Covenant." Two immediate reminders of the temple sealing Jared and I had. My tears continued as I read the talk, rhythmically rocking Liberty while I could hear Jared coughing through the walls. I ached to be with him, to comfort him. But I needed to take care of our baby too. Being torn between the two people I love most in the whole world be prove to be another difficulty over the next few days as I couldn't fully be there for either one. That last Tuesday night was only the start as I would try to split my time between them both. But during that talk, I felt confidence in it's message. And I knew Jared was confident. Knowing Jared and I had made covenants together and were sealed together for more than our time on Earth, but for eternity without end, brought me peace and comfort that night. Still, more thoughts came that I wanted to ignore. It occurred to me that while the First Presidency would be praying for my husband, the very prophet would be saying his name, I felt the purpose of their prayers would be to bring us comfort, not necessarily healing for Jared. I cried. I didn't want that to be so! And in actuality, I didn't believe it. I went on that week feeling so hopeful Jared would recover and not for one second more thinking he only had days left in mortality. And then without any warning or clear thought pattern leading to it, I had the distinct impression that Jared's older brother Ricky was to speak at his funeral. What a morbid thing to think! I was disappointed in myself for even letting such a thought come into my mind! Sure, one day maybe he could speak, but I didn't need to worry over those kinds of things now. I pushed the idea away and focused on laying Liberty back in her crib. I was anxious to get back to Jared and wrap my arms around him. He needed me. I wanted to make him feel better, and I just felt sure I somehow could. Again, was I being naive or hopeful? 

When I was able to return to bed, exhausted myself, I was relieved to find Jared sleeping. His breathing seemed to finally fall into a calm rhythm and I was grateful for those moments he seemed to have relief. The night would carry on, growing harder and harder. Jared's oxygen was lower than ever. After the only time he took it off to get up for a minute, it had dropped to 76 and his heart rate jumped. However brief, I knew that was dire. Again, I pleaded with Jared to let me take him to the ER simply to be checked, have any needed antibiotics or fluids to keep him from being dehydrated, and the reasons went on. I would again hold him tight as the cough persisted accompanied by the pain. Eventually, more sleep for all of us would come and so would the morning light. 

As I think back, I am grateful for those gentle promptings. While I didn't fully understand them at the time, I recognize that our situation was known to God, because the words He sent me to read that night would carry me through many difficult days ahead. They continue to do so. Even as we approach the anniversary of Jared's death, his journey to a place where full physical healing has come, the memories and emotions they bring are strong and at times overpowering. I don't think those precious moments in the quiet dark of the nursery that last night, admiring our beautiful baby girl, praying for her to sleep, praying for Jared to breathe and feel my love, will ever leave me but will remain as tender, treasured moments in my mind. I didn't know it would be our last night in our home together, even though we were at times separated by walls. And now, while we are separated by the great schism of death, we are still together. We are sealed, bound together in love forever, and I imagine just a mere wall between us that will one day fade away.