From North Carolina to Georgia

And so we had a funeral—a celebration of Ted’s life really. It was difficult—more than difficult, but we got through it.  Friends and family attended Ted’s funeral, bought food, sent condolences and supported us in ways too many to number.  So many attended Ted’s funeral.  He would have been so happy.  He typically underestimated the impact he had upon people.

Much of the planning had already been done.  I knew exactly what Ted wanted, his obituary had been written months before and so, when we met with the minister to discuss funeral specifics, there weren’t a lot of blanks to be filled in.  My minister wanted to know something about Ted. Though I was an active member of my church, Ted did not attend so the minister asked many questions—trying to get to know Ted in anticipation of his eulogy—looking for his essence. I remember it like it was yesterday—Lateef wanted the minister to know that even though Ted did not attend church and was not a religious man, he was a good and honest man who did believe in a higher power—he told the minister how instrumental Ted was in his life and the lives of others and directed him to the video that Rashida had put together to get another dimension of this man we were mourning. The video became an integral part of the minister’s speech.  Happy Feelings became the theme of Ted’s funeral.

The picture below shows our family at Ted’s funeral.   Left to right: Rashida, Me, Lateef, Jade (Lateef’s 13-year old daughter), Aileen, Ami (Lateef’s 8-year old daughter).  Seated is Nana (Ted’s mother).  To the right are pictures of Ted on the memorial table. Looking at this picture, I wonder why we’re smiling? Perhaps we’re only smiling because that’s what people are programmed to do in front of the camera.  Nana’s face shows the real pain we’re all feeling.

I continued the work necessary to put our home on the market.  Ted and I had already decided to sell our “retirement” home.  We enjoyed it so much and it was such a peaceful home, but it was way too big for us and when Ted got sick and could no longer take care of the lawn and all of the other strong arm work, we decided we’d better move to something smaller.  So for the past year, we’d been weeding out, getting rid of things we no longer needed in anticipation of a move.  I continued on with that work.

On February 24, 2014—1 month from the date that Ted passed away, I left our home with a For Sale sign in front, got in my car and drove down to Atlanta.  The plan was to visit with the grandchildren for a couple of days, leave my car with Lateef since I would not need a car in New York, then fly up to live with Rashida.  Ted had asked me a few weeks before he passed away: “What will you do?” I understand now that that was “the conversation” that people who are dying have with their loved ones.  Most times there’s more discussion than that but Ted and I had talked about everything else so this was the only question left.  I told him that I would live with Rashida in New York.  He seemed pleased and relieved that we would be together and said “Two can live more cheaply than one”.  So I continued on with what we had planned.

Little did I know that in five days my son would pass away and within another week, our family would be attending yet another funeral.

Goodbye My Love

Ted passed away peacefully on January 24, 2014—a scant 10 months after diagnosis of Stage IV duodenal cancer.

Our daughter, Rashida put together a beautiful video with words and music from friends and family telling Ted just what he had meant to them.  He was not well on Christmas morning but he was strong enough to watch the video.  He sat in the middle—I was on one side and Rashida was on the other.  Rashida had gone out by email and asked friends and family to share some thoughts about Ted.  She took those thoughts, wrote them onto large index cards and held them up to the camera—the background music played some of Ted’s favorite songs, Happy Feelings by Frankie Beverly and Maze, Sentimental Mood by Ellington/Coltrane, Kiss of Life by Sade, I’ll Be Loving You Always by Stevie Wonder—his favorite songs—his favorite artists—words from the people who loved him.   It was a beautiful tribute.

Ted is not an emotional person but this day—this Christmas day, he was full of emotion.  He did not cry but his breathing got heavy and I asked him if he could get through it—he said he could.  When the video was over he said “That was the greatest Christmas gift I ever received—my heart is full”.  Coming from Ted, that was quite an accolade. I am so very glad that we got to share this with him—many people don’t really get to know their impact on people before they leave this world—Ted did.

After Christmas, Ted’s health started to take a dip and we went to the doctor for another CT scan.  We got the news that the cancer had taken over most of his liver—there was nowhere to go now but hospice.  And so started the most compassionate part of this journey.  We were assigned a staff of nurses, nurses’s assistants, grief counselors and psychologists who were on call night and day.  These people were so caring—they made Ted’s last 10 days much more manageable than they’d otherwise be.

On January 14^th 2014 Ted went into hospice at home. My minister came and prayed and family and friends started making what would be their last visits.  On January 24^th in the early morning it became apparent that Ted was leaving us.  I called our son, Lateef and told him that he should come—he got to us at around 3 pm. Ted’s mother and sister were on their way traveling by train from New York. When hospice advised us that they probably would not make it, we put the phone up to his ear.  His mother and sister talked to him—I know he heard their voices—his eyelids fluttered.   During the day, we played Ted’s favorite music (Sade) and kept him comfortable with lavender lotion on his face and swabs for his mouth.  Early in the morning as I passed his bedside, I’d call his name and his eyes would pop open, though he could not speak.  As the day went on, his eyes continued to open when his name was called but became more cloudy and by early afternoon, he no longer responded to his name.  We talked to him and held his hand.  He was never alone. During this entire time, hospice was with us. 

At 10:45 pm, Ted took his last breath.  As I had promised Ted, I was holding his hand—Lateef and Rashida were at the bedside.  He left us very quietly--It was the most peaceful exit I have ever seen and I’ve seen a few.  Lateef collapsed on the floor in grief and Rashida and I joined him.