The last few days of Mitch’s life are engrained in my brain, as if I was supposed to remember.
I remember the party we went to, where he couldn’t fall asleep, and took care of me while I puked forever. He had to get up and go to work the next morning, but I made him feel so guilty about missing dinner with friends, that he came. He had fun and enjoyed meeting my work family.
The work family enjoyed his presence as well.
I remember within his last few days we watched How to lose a guy in 10 days and he commented on how much he loved that movie. How underrated that movie was. He even teared up at the end.
I remember family movie night the Tuesday night, about 12 hours before he died.
I remember what he wanted for dinner, that Tuesday night.
I remember him commenting about how his chest hurt, but how he thought it was his muscles being sore from coughing so much.
I remember that Tuesday, before movie time, he laid his head in my lap, and closed his eyes. I was playing the slots game, so I could win enough coins to get us a free weekend in a hotel in Vegas, for 2017 vacation.
I remember tripping over clothes and a dog, to kiss Mitch goodbye that Wednesday morning.
It’s like a flood of memories.
I can’t believe it’s been almost an entire year, that I’ve managed to put one foot in front of the other. One step, one leap, one face-plant at a time.
He explained to Meg that I was one of the strongest people he has ever met, because I am empathetic, always. He said “The strongest people are the ones who cry during movies, because they can put themselves into the shoes of the characters, and FEEL what they are portraying, and not everyone can do that, but your mom can.” Ugh! Like he was unknowingly preparing her for the strength I was about to have to take on. For the strength SHE was about to have to have.