The Things We Remember

This week would have been Allen and Nita's 37th wedding anniversary. Ryan's sister took a bouquet of flowers to their grave, which I thought was very sweet of her. Allen always gave Nita pink roses (for every occasion) and if you look in the picture, you'll see some dried roses among the fresh ones. They were from the last roses he ever bought before he died.

Seeing this picture and thinking about their anniversary reminded me of their anniversary back in 2018 when Nita was recovering from surgery and living with us. Her biggest wish was to buy Allen a gift and card, so she asked Ryan if he thought she was strong enough to go to the store. I'm not sure if Ryan really thought she was, but he knew the chances of her living to see the next anniversary were slim, so he said he'd take her shopping.

He found a mask for her (back before they were everywhere) and told me to stay home to enjoy some quiet time. (I was working from home full time back then and cared for her during the day while Ryan went to work. I was terrible at it, but I sure tried!) So he took her shopping and throughout the evening, they sent me selfies from the store. I remember she bought socks and cologne, and she was so happy that she'd been able to go do that herself.

She had a doctor's appointment the day of their anniversary, so Allen came to get her and then he took her out to eat after that. And somewhere in there, I'm sure, there were pink roses.

That season was so hard for everyone. It was hard for Nita, a heart fighting to live and a body fighting to die. It was hard for Allen, who could only believe that she would be healed on this earth. It was hard for her kids, who all knew what they were facing, and they all processed it so differently. It was hard for her grandkids, who were young and didn't understand things like brain tumors and death.

What I learned in that season was that Ryan is remarkable. His sheer grit, coupled with his compassion, were really something to behold. I have no idea how he did it. I have no idea how he got up at 5 in the morning and went to the gym, spent a full day at work treating patients, and then two nights a week, we drove 30 minutes each way to care for his mom, arriving back home at 1 a.m. Oh - in the icy, snowy, Indiana winters. I have no idea how he stayed so calm and patient during those long caregiving hours, when she couldn't get comfortable, and her moods were sometimes unpredictable. But he did. He did it with grace.

The thing he wanted most of all was to be with her when she died, and he was. He never left her side - not once - even after she passed away. Until the funeral  home arrived, he sat and fulfilled a promise his heart had made to hers. 

So on this anniversary week for Allen and Nita, I remember that last anniversary they shared together on this earth. I remember her joy in being able to get one last gift for him - herself. I remember Ryan's tenacity in caring for her with the same tenderness she showed to so many others during her career as a nurse. And I am grateful for how much more my heart learned to trust him as I watched him in that role.

I like to wrap up my thoughts with a nice, neat bow, but today I'm not sure I can find the bow. All I can offer are the things I remember as I remember Allen and Nita. Thanks for reading along today.