Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Duck, Caffe Mocha and Christian Music

Bobby always had a very limited palate.  He was not an adventurous eater by any means.  Trying to get him to try any new food was like pulling teeth.  If we were getting coffee, I'd get a fancy mocchacino, he would get regular coffee.  When we went out to eat, I'd try different things on the menu, like duck, while he would only get chicken.  And if chicken parmigiana was on the menu, he would get that.  No matter what restaurant we went to, he would get the chicken parmigiana if it were available.

After he was diagnosed, we were fortunate enough to be able to go on a family vacation with the boys.  We went to a nice restaurant one night, and duck was on the menu.  He completely surprised me by ordering duck!  I couldn't believe it!  Mr. He-Who-Only-Ate-Chicken ordering duck?  Who was this man, and what had he done with my husband?

A few weeks later, right before I left work, I gave him a call at his office and told him I was stopping at Starbucks for a Cafe Mocha on my way home.  He always told me that "Chocolate does NOT belong in coffee!" so I did not for one second think he would want one.  I offered to pick him up a cup of coffee, since we frequently got home from work at the same time, and he said, "Sure.  Get me a Cafe Mocha, too."  After I scraped myself up off the floor, I left work and picked up two Cafe Mochas from Starbucks.

One night a few weeks later, we were talking about food and the duck and Cafe Mocha came up in the conversation.  He told me that he was not particularly fond of either the duck or the Cafe Mocha.  I asked him why he tried them then, when he had been so dead set against it earlier.  He said it was time he tried new things, that he might not get another chance.

There was another incident when we were in the car.  He put the radio on, but instead of tuning into the typical Classic Rock station that he normally listened to, or putting in one of his Bluegrass CD's, he had the radio tuned to Christian music.  Now, although we are Christian, neither one of us is uber-religious, and on more Sundays than I care to admit, St. Pillow won out over St. Paul's, especially in the summer.  So I looked at him and questioned, "Christian music?"

"I need all the help I can get," was his reply. 

It dawned on me then.  Even though we rarely spoke about it directly, I knew he was dying, so of course he knew, too.  I cannot even begin to put myself in his shoes, to have on my mind that I was going to die soon.  That my life was going to be cut short before I was ready.  That I was leaving behind the love of my life and two kids.  He wasn't much of a deep talker, so he didn't often verbalize to me how he was feeling.  But all these little things that he did and said make me realize now how horrible it must have been for him. 

I'm so glad I gave him all the hugs that I did.  When he died, he knew he was loved.


  1. I know the pain of looking into his eyes and knowing he knew it was coming. For all the imagination I have, I cannot imagine what it would be like. xxx

  2. Wow. This is some great insight. My husband was killed instantly with no notice. I often wonder what it would have been like to be watch your spouse as they are dying. To know it's coming. The pain they must have felt know they were going to die and the pain you feel watching it all happen.

  3. The thought that brings me to my knees is when I put myself in that ICU bed and look out from behind my husband's eyes. I can only imagine. The reality would be more than I could bear.

  4. I am remarried now; but because my late husband never had a chance to say goodbye, my current husband and I always kiss and say goodbye before we part from each other, even if it is just for a little while. Then we'll have no regrets when it is time for us to go to heaven.