May 21, 2009

It's May 21, 2009.  Jason and I woke up early that morning to get to the hospital for whatever things he needed done that day.  We were pretty well rested, having had a pretty good time the night before.  The night of the 20th, I had joked with him that I wanted to get my nails done, and that he should too.  He told me he had never had a manicure or pedicure before, and that sealed the deal.  We dropped everything and went to a nearby nail salon. 

We sat next to each other in the pedicure chairs as the two ladies worked on our feet.  We looked at each other, smiled, and at one point he gently put his hand on my arm.  I could see it in his face, he was genuinely relaxing.  It was a good thing.  I finished first, and then went over to the desk and had my hands worked on.  When that was done, I realized I had forgotten to get cash.  I left Jason at the store while they finished with him so I could run and grab cash.  When I returned, all three of them had been crying.  In her broken english, one of the women said to me "You really love him, don't you?"  Taken aback, I said "Absolutely.  How could you not fall in love with that?" 

On the way home, I pressed Jason to tell me what was said, but he didn't.  It wasn't until several days later that he told me about their conversation...how he told them about his cancer, about how he was dying, and about how I had stayed by his side every step of the way.  I went back to that nail salon the day before I left to take Jason's ashes back to Boston.  The woman remembered me, and knew when I walked in there alone that Jason had died.  She didn't say anything at first, but before I got up to leave, she came around the table and gave me a hug. It was one of the most touching experiences, and one I'll never forget.

Back to the 21st.  It was a Thursday, and we spent most of the morning at the hospital.  I can't recall exactly, but I think Jason only needed a couple things, and we were on schedule to meet with the Hospice worker at the house that afternoon.  It was also the day that Jason's parents were arriving - to stay until it was over.  They got to the house about the same time as the hospice worker.  Jason was very coarse with his parents and sent them to the backyard while he and I worked out the details with hospice.  He didn't want his parents involved in that - I think more to protect them than anything else.  We sat with the guy at the dining room table while Jason filled out the paperwork and answered questions.  After he left, we filled his parents in on everything. 

Jason talked to his parents about wanting to throw a party for himself the next weekend.  He likened it to the movie "It's My Party" where they guy has a party for himself to say goodbye to everyone the night before he dies.  None of us knew how fast things would go, so a party seemed like a good idea.  We went to bed that night talking about it, laughing, and thinking about how fun it would be.

Seven Days Left