Being an emotional wreck on vacation is no fun. I had a special day with my brother on Tuesday, the day before we left for our planned vacation. A much needed vacation for my husband and family. Jason hadn't eaten in three days and hadn't been out of bed in two. I sat in his room, we chatted (well I chatted) and we listened to a bunch of his favorite country songs. He tapped his finger to the beat of the music and I sang an oldie "Maybe it was Memphis" in a silly theatrical voice. I kept trying to feed him just a little something so that I could leave on vacation and know that he was going to start making another comeback. I cried a lot that day too. Feeling a little panicked about leaving, but not feeling strongly that I should cancel our vacation. I looked him in his eyes often too and begged him to hang on until we got home. (Now realizing how selfish that really was to do to him. To make him feel like he needs to hang in there, when really he could be feeling ready to return home.)
I cried on the beach all afternoon. Not sure if I should pack up my family and leave or stay until we get word. My mom called today and said it was getting rough. Jason is now on morphine and pretty much asleep most of the day and when awake he is having trouble breathing, but she didn't think we needed to come home yet. For some reason, typing this makes me think we should get in the car now and head home. But there is another part of me that thinks we could get home and sit around my mom and dad's house for another week.
Honestly, I love my last memory with Jason. I don't necessarily NEED more time with him, but I would like to be there when he passes on to continue his journey in heaven. To experience that very spiritual moment that I have heard people talk so tenderly about. To be there and see his peace. But we don't know exactly when that will be. And, at the same time I am nowhere near ready to say good-bye. Maybe that is why we are still here in San Clemente even though I am crying at dinner, at frozen yogurt, in Rite Aid and while typing this. I am torn. I am not feeling an urgency or prompting to get home though and that comforts me. I am trying to enjoy this time with my family. With my kids. They have been so good and sweet to their Uncle Jason and have given much service to him. The last few months have been very special times for our family in that regard. But right now, I wanted them to have this time off, to enjoy being kids. Enjoy time spent at our favorite beach spots as a family. Making memories. But if we have to leave, they will understand. And we will have plenty of time to make more memories.
Tomorrow we are planning Legoland. That was on Blake's agenda for this whole trip. I will probably cry from time to time while we are there. I can just imagine what people will think. But I don't care what people will think of me. I will also smile, laugh and love our family time and pray that Jason will feel comfortable and, honestly, selfishly pray for one more day everyday until we get home. Please don't judge me. I'm just not ready to write a eulogy. I'm not sure I ever will be.