Steve had agreed to go to the cabin. But he wanted to “stay home and rest”. So I made sure that he was comfortable, and went about my errands.
But what I found out later was that he was a very busy boy that day. He had made another appointment with the oncologist to look further into this “trial” that they had talked about. He told me later that he was given the “red carpet treatment” by the doctor, the staff and the drug rep who did the presentation. Once he told them that he was not interested afterall, they treated him like a number, and reminded him that he only had 6 months.
He then came home and finalized his will. He looked at our combined finances, and made a budget for me that I did not find out about until later.
He also wrote a beautiful “love letter” to me and tucked it into my big bible. Not the one by my bed, but the one that I take to church with me. I did not find that letter until about two months after he passed.
I look back and realize that a that was his last completely lucid day. He fought hard to be alert and stay focused to get what he needed to get done. He told me that night that he realized on this day that he was not going to “beat this thing”. You might say that it was an act of heroism to make sure that everything was in order to protect, and even show love for me after he was gone.
When I came home, he was still on the couch where I left him. I was none the wiser to his escapades of the day, or the fear that he was feeling.
I packed up the car, helped him in and away we went to the cabin.