Note: I am recollecting things as best I can, not in exactitude.
As Julia lay dying, unable to eat or drink and going without sustenance for nineteen days, I prayed over her, and told her (something like) “It’s time to go” – that her loved ones and her beloved pets were all waiting for her in the Light, with Jesus (she was a devout Christian). I told her that her body was broken and could not be repaired, that it was starting to decay, and that her only hope was to go to The Light… That there she would be young again, strong again, forever.
The Lewy Body Dementia had not robbed her of memory, but of motor skills, locking her into an incapacitated human form as into a prison cell – so that she could neither move her limbs nor even her jaw, and could no longer swallow. I begged her to let go, because I loved her, even if I was desperately terrified to be without her, for even her condition at least she was there, and I could hug her, kiss her cheeks, take care of her, hold her hand.
I tried to sit with her, holding her hand, as long as I could, before passing out around 3:30am, only to awaken briefly at 4’ish. She was still breathing then, so I dozed again. At just after 5am, I woke again, and she was pale and still. Still I waited, hoping for a miracle as I had all along, and knowing that most accounts of miraculous healings (spontaneous remissions) seemed to happen at that threshold between life and death.
Julia did not awaken, and I called Hospice just after 7am. I’ll admit to crying allot over the last year, struggling to mentally and physically cope with the stress and labors of taking care of someone 24/7… But on Wednesday the 7th of August, I felt pain rush through me and rip its way out of me like a raging icy storm, a wailing howl erupted from my innermost being that hurts just to recall days later. I still cannot believe that she is gone, and the empty feeling left behind is like nothing I’ve ever known. Been homeless, been abused, been hit and kicked, almost died many times, abandoned and betrayed, and nothing has felt so truly horrific.
God! Julie! Why? Why, God?
I have spent my life kneeling and praying, loving and fearing the Lord, wandering in the desert without food and water, studying religions and sects and paths of every sort, and committing myself to daily worship and meditations, giving up addictions and living not so dissimilary from a monk… Striving to touch the angelic and divine through mediumistic means… I begged God to heal Julie every day, prayed over her every day, and she’s dead!
I’d not communicated with The Spirit for some time, my life consumed with caring for Julie, but no human words can bring comfort to this situation – so in desperate hope I reached out again, through disillusionment and despair.
Julie’s Gone! Who else can answer why?