The Grieving Comforting the Grieving

The Grieving Comforting the Grieving

In hindsight, Sam’s day today was not significantly different from yesterday.





He had a couple of naps, but that’s not any new news. We walked with family on the Bob Jones-pushing Sam in the wheelchair. He accompanied us to the high school to pick up Ben and Abby. We watched a couple of Giada shows, had a few visitors (friend Penny, who is also mom to one of Sam’s friends, Mrs. Whalley, who should be Sam’s teacher this year, and Mrs. Graybehl, another 3rd grade teacher), and ate pizza for dinner.

Sam also had a strange episode that was really scary for John (I wasn’t home. I went for a run. I might not be doing that again for a while). As far as I understand, Sam was standing at the sink ready to wash his hands after going to the bathroom, but he couldn’t get his hands to move up into the sink and under the running water. He said something like, “Why isn’t it working?” His breathing was labored, and this coupled with his inability to move his arms caused John to give him a dose of Ativan and call the hospice nurse for advice. John decided that Sam really needed to rest so he put him in bed and that’s where I found him when I came home. His breathing was easy and regular, and within moments of me sitting down Sam opened his eyes and said, “I want to get up.”

People are always asking me how I am doing. Today was one of those days when the grief keeps coming in little waves and bigger waves. And yes, I am already grieving. I grieve the loss of Sam before cancer changed him-busy, smart, artistic Sam. And tonight his big brother is feeling the pain of loss and fear of further loss as well. How can I comfort Ben if I can’t comfort myself?

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