Category — Health Issues

This week I received two very lovely comments regarding my poems, both in the same vein informing me how much folk enjoy them and how they helped them when grieving or in pain. Yes of course I receive daily comments, it would be unusual if you wrote a blog and never heard from anyone but sometimes the wording of these comments propel you forward to keep trying to perfect the one perfect verse. I am supremely pleased when anyone leaves a comment, just to imagine someone  taking time from their busy schedule to bother to email me saying how much they enjoyed my words, a phrase, or a particular poem delights me. Sometimes they may refer to my words having helped or brought healing tears at a point in the lives when sadness was choking or blocking their emotions. That upon reading the simple phrases written here, they say it was enough to know someone understood their own pain and could perhaps share it with them. Being sad or worried is a lonely road and often one you cannot continually share with your personal friends or family. Grief affects us all at some time in our lives and to different degrees  but I yearn to understand how some of us survive while others do not.

Unless you have been or are a Carer, it is often difficult to understand the daily stress of following harsh schedules and the responsibilities for another person’s life. So often this comes upon you suddenly and it is difficult to absorb all that appears before you. If you have no nursing experience you are confronted with serious decisions to help your partner to make regarding the right path to take with medical matters plus the emotional side too; often with no outlet for your own feelings, which hover near the surface daily. My choice was to write down my daily feelings and in my simple words I found a voice that started privately but ended up world-wide! I will try to continue with my ‘poems of love’ after reading these two rather special comments this week asking me to do so.  Blessings and thanks dear friends.

On another little subject that seems to be most difficult at this time of the year for the newly bereaved is the putting- up of Christmas decorations. Often these have great sentimental memories attached to them and are often collected together over the years if you have been together for a long time. I have talked of this recently with dear friends on-line and through social networks. Folk who are struggling even to get a few pieces out of boxes for the festive season. Me too I’m afraid. Really I feel it depends whether you have grandchildren visiting or not. Last year when very newly bereaved I made a huge effort to do all the ‘normal things’ especially for my Grandson and family. I found it most difficult but he had lost his beloved Grandpa only the month before and I wanted all to be as it was in previous years when he visited. As if it could possibly be but I am sure you understand. I wanted him to think nothing else had changed too much. My feelings if you live alone now, that perhaps changing things a little can help. It’s painful when so much is going on around you, Christmas displays and festive music in all the shops makes it difficult to function without sadness as it is. So instead of having your normal decorations, perhaps having a small arrangement of twinkling branches maybe flowers instead of the tradition tree if that is what you used to share with your special person. Change things a little. Perhaps a decorated photo of your loved one with gorgeous scented candles that can be lit when the mood feels right for you, would be better for your heart.

When Hamada was very ill he would love to look at the Christmas lights even more than before when he was busy, he would watch as I decorated the tree with little suggestions here and there.  The following poem written in 2008 tells about that and is shown below. Have a joyous Christmas my dear friends with all your good memories, as precious as the love you will always have for your special person.

In Christmas Lights.

Sharp and crisp as snowy nights

crystal clear in prism lights,

gentle orbs that sparkle bright

shining are your eyes tonight.

Reflected jewels of liquid amber

like dripping rich fondant creams,

chocolate in the deepest hue,

I bow my head to look at you

Eyes that hold this strangeness well

in candlelight they watch and drink

forgotten words, much time to think.

A bitter pill that’s hard for you,

as fairy lights come into view,

white and gold’s, red and greens,

you simply watch in reverent scene,

reflections in those honest eyes

of baubles and of Christmas time.

In Christmas lights my poems for you

expressed in love, a poignant view…

All Rights Reserved: 2008

I felt it appropriate on this first anniversary to post again two poems written around this time last year. The first, the simple poem “This Rollercoaster Life” was written when I knew and needed to accept that there was no more that could be done for Hamada or rather that there was no more medical intervention that our dearest Hamada could possibly have managed or that he wanted done. Although we still kept hope alive really apart from the love and tender care I could possibly achieve during his final days, I knew I had to accept that this was the time to stop fighting to keep him with us and pass on my care to the Almighty.  The second poem was written shortly after losing  Hamada and deals with the acute and painful feelings of this time. Letting go with dignity is hard when all you want to do is scream aloud with the painful sadness you feel. I have made it through this first year with much help from my dear family, very close friends and my MM friends worldwide. I thank them from the bottom of my heart for their love and patience but mostly I chose to grieve in private, apart from a few rants on here or when hearing a favourite song or piece of music that we both loved, caught me unaware. I may place a smile on my face everyday but my heart tells a different story.This man was much to miss! 

“Hamada’s story” is still and will remain on http://www.susiehemingway.blogspot.com  It is in reverse order for the new friends who I know come here from other sites to  read about MM, ending with his final days and covering more than four years. All aspects of emotion in the form of poems and many entries on caring and loving someone deeply as we both came to terms with the disease that is Multiple Myeloma.

Today and always I salute this special man: “I miss you dearest one as the sun comes up everyday and the moon appears at night, and as private as my tears fall, I miss you with every breath I take”

“This Rollercoaster Life” – 24 October 2010.

As swooping as the Rollercoaster

my heart hangs in fearful suspended news

that fills these ‘purple days’.

Days that bring shattered dreams,

only the strongest mind can hold.

My laughter becomes an echo that teeters on the edge

as I snap and break at disclosures strewn around.

My heart bleeds to dissolve this anger

which knows no bounds and as unruly as my mind.

Soaring high into this shimmering mosaic sky,

I hang on like a child that screams into the wind,

as these punishing swoops, turn into views as

fragile and as consuming as this Rollercoaster life.

All Rights Reserved:  October 2010.

“Let Me Not”  – 2 December 2010.

Let me not falter dear Lord.

Let me not fall at this final hurdle.

Guide me now to complete this task.

Let me not plaintively wail and scream as my heart doth now.

Allow me to show dignity that he always showed.

Let me not stand beneath the stars and scream his name aloud.

Let me remember this day, as we honour him.

Grant me the courage that he always showed.

Let me not go down on my bended knees and shout at the sky,

And implore you to return him to me.

Let me not fall at this final hurdle.

Give me the strength Oh Lord not to fail,

with this final task…

All Rights Reserved: November 2010

"Poetry is the opening and closing of a door,
leaving those who look through to guess about
what is seen during a moment" Carl Sandburg

God Bless Hamada.

As this month embraces Autumn I recall the September of last year  and the wretched struggles of that time. I suppose in retrospect this backward view, this sorrowful indulgence, is something that those bereaved need to do. A kind of  summing up as you approach  the first anniversary without your special person. It is not maudlin or mawkishly sentimental, far from it. It is for me necessary for shall we say, the organization of the mind.

In the early months of loss, when so numb the years of caring seemed like a bad dream. I could not breathe without pain through the sorrow and  I would have turned back the pages of the book to have him back with me in an instant. Of course never to see again  the horrors of this disease or  the damage it inflicted on this gentle wise  man or for him to suffer on and on but just to hear his voice calling my name or to see his eyes light up when I entered his room.

I was not the only one amongst our friends to suffer loss that year. MM took many of our newly made friends in 2010.  Friends made at the hospital, diagnosed at the same time and internet friends made out of a need to follow together as Carers. We used our common knowledge, clung together in an effort to help, support and glean information fr0m each other when we could. We became a strong body and positive in our efforts to champion, protect and help.

For the first few months of MM although I clearly knew the facts but because of our strong love, I believed we could beat this disease and although I saw and knew well the terrible changes overcoming Hamada, I continued with hope until the end.It goes without saying that this period of my life, the immense shock at diagnosis, the daily struggles, doing my best to help was and has  been without doubt  the most difficult period of my life but we made it to the end with peace and dignity and you will too my dear friends, the many of you who are still fighting for your love ones. Obtaining the best care you can for them and guiding them daily, to achieve a good quality of life from this a most difficult disease and the saddest period of your life.

Together  with love and tenderness these days become supremely special and will stay eternally in your memory.  It’s really all we ever want is it not, to be loved and well cared for in our final hours.

As Hamada’s first anniversary approaches, I have decided not to write here again about his ‘journey’ unless asked for advice or information regarding caring with Multiple Myeloma. I hope to move on to other subjects  but I will of course follow my friends blogs, checking in on them from time to time to see how they are doing.

I think my dear one should be allowed to rest in peace now. My intentions are to take time to get on with the years left to me. To enjoy each God given day to the best of my ability and to embrace new joys that have presented themselves. It would after all be just what Hamada would have wanted.

*“There comes a time to remind yourself of your reasons for living. You have a future worth enduring and you deserve to find a renewed sense of purpose and pleasure in your life”

*From Grief Therapy by Karen Katafiasz.

What will it say in years to come? What will it tell the folks who pass by and glance, reading the words I’ve chosen. How I wanted to tell a story on this tablet of stone. How I wanted to place so many words. Words that would have filled this oblong of granite. Something much more, about the special man who rests here.

The rules are strict for the Diocese of Lincoln: Monuments should be of natural stone (with no reflecting finish) and a list of recommended stones is given to help with choice. The stone must not be polished, nor finished in any way to give the effect of polished stone. I agree with all this, keeping the beauty of this peaceful resting place is so important and garish shiny headstones would look out of keeping, here amongst the grey.

Inscriptions should be simple, reverent and with an appropriate epitaph but how difficult in a few words, when I wanted to say so much about the wise, kind and caring man who lies here.

I could have added angels to keep you company, or lilies in ornate decorative splendour carved across the stone. I could have added copious words in gilt, flowery sentiments of love. I wanted to say so much. For in my heart I desired the biggest and the most elaborate memorial stone of them all. A pharaohs tomb. For in my world you were the very best of them all.

Instead I knew you would not have liked that. For you were most humble, for you were too elegant for showy symbols. You would have wished to mingle unnoticed amongst the others, although you never went unnoticed.

Just a simple plain stone you said, like most of the others in this quiet lovely place of rest. Just my name you said, I will be proud to rest here you told me.

Keep it simple, keep it simple echoed in my ears but my heart wanted so much more, as I stood before the selection of traditional stones. Let it be elegant for this most elegant of men.

I made my choice, only once biting the inside of my mouth to stem the tears as I realized this would be the last task I would perform for dear Hamada.

So we shall see in early September when we stand together once again to honour this beloved man. I believe I’ve chosen the simple words well. Hamada would be pleased.

It is right and fitting.

I seem to wait for you these days,

like longing for the sun to rise after a sleepless night.

When believing that the bright morning rays

that cast shadows across my floor,

will remove this need from my heart.

And still I wait.

I wait for you like the excited child before a birthday.

Eager and keen for the day to start

when all the surprises and fun will begin.

But you never come to bring these joys to me!

I know you can’t…I know you would… I know…

I’m still waiting for you when I look at the night sky

filled with twinkling jewels.

I look again for you as I enter the house alone.

I’m waiting to see those laughing eyes, black as coal-chips

and the smile that always took my breath away.

I’m waiting…

The tears fall as I write this and you would have been

so  mad,

mad with me for being sad – but I’m waiting to hear your

luscious voice once more.

I seem to wait a lot these days.

I know you can’t make it right.

I know you can’t…I know you would…I know…

All Rights Reserved. 2011.

Every week or so I take a little pot plant to Hamada’s grave to garnish in a small way the resting place of my beloved. I will continue this until his memorial stone is in place. We still have time to wait for that, as it is important that the ground settles and becomes flat once more. I have been thinking about appropriate words and style, what a decision this will be for me. I know my close family will help me with this when the time comes. Hamada was buried when the snow was deep on the ground and this winter was one of the harshest in living memory, so the ground until recently has been solid and unyielding. As Hamada is buried within walking distance of my home I can visit whenever I choose.  I always choose to pass by his grave on my walks. I bend and pat the ground where he lays and then as an elderly gentleman told me to do, look up at the sky for a moment or two.  This I have found is comforting to me as I listen to the noisy calls of the rooks, high up in their huge bowls of twiggy nests. The birds cannot spoil this high place of rest with it’s spring bulbs  and tranquil setting.

I think often as I walk, of the lovely words from “The Autumn of Love” by Khalil Gibran, which give me peace and today I leave here  for my friends just a small extract for your pleasure.

“The sorrow of love sings.

The sorrow of knowledge speaks.

The sorrow of desire whispers.

And the sorrow of poverty weeps.

But there exists a sorrow deeper

than love, more noble than knowledge,

stronger than desire, and more bitter

than poverty.

This sorrow has no voice, it is dumb,

but its eyes glitter like the stars.

Khalil Gibran – From Love Letters in the Sand.

Dear John,

Monday 24 Jan.2011

Yes indeed we can John, we can do all manner of things if those things bring us comfort. Kissing the special bookmark is a tender act of remembrance as you think of your wife. We fought long and hard to help our partners and so the path we take to bring comfort is ours  to choose and ours alone to find. If  a little gesture brings some peace or comfort to us, then it’s a must.

I try to keep busy to get through the days although not so in the first few weeks. I have now started  this distraction therapy with a little work at “Hemingway”  Work that was long overdue, re-designing the kitchen bringing it more up-to-date. Planning in my mind little things to take care of during the next few weeks, I thought might help? I sincerely hope your days have not been too painful this week.

When tending a love one and making all decisions for their medical care, arranging  drug ordering, keeping the many hospital appointments and with all their personal needs to attend to. The very many things that are important to make their days comfortable.  Then all of a sudden when they are no longer here and all their daily needs stop, it is like losing a right arm. A huge chasm opens  up, a void you feel like jumping into. The awful emptiness that fills your mind and  time “what do I do now”.

So I have been trying to fill my days with little projects. Not terribly exciting plans but achieving something small everyday gives me a structure to focus on, a sense of purpose in a way. I talk to Hamada  often just like he is in the other room as I am sure you talk to your precious wife also. I still put on his favourite music forgetting he is no longer there to listen but hoping he can, am I mad?

I was cleaning the window of his bedroom from the outside, something I often did- in between the window cleaners coming-so he could always have a nice shiny perfectly clear view of the sky. As I was rubbing away at the glass  I could clearly see Hamada’s reflection in the glass! I looked and saw him propped up in his bed smiling at me.  So I bent forward and blew him a kiss then on seeing clearly that the room was empty, my heart filled with such pain again at the missing of him. Things like that upset your day, the desire to see your love one just one more time, or for me to hear his  beautiful voice often overwhelms.

So keeping busy for me is paramount but I’m still not up to large social ‘do’s’ I live in a tiny village, our community is close and there are often rather nice things to attend. Village Hall Dinners, Music evenings but I’m not ready for those yet. I scuttle and flurry about like some demented black bat with my private thoughts and memories at times frightened they might vanish. Silly really for if they did, so would I. Of course we shall survive not living the life we had imagined but we shall keep our memories safe and perhaps by talking about our grief we may give some hope to others.

I pray you have a peaceful week and manage to enjoy some good days.

All very best wishes for your continued peace.

Susie.x

Hi Anne,

Wednesday 26 Jan 2011.

Yes today was difficult just like you said it would be, the horrid two month anniversary. Can it really be this long? You said it would be this way and you are so much further down this difficult road with your loss than I. Eight weeks!  this longing to have him back seems as if it has been forever. The quietness now in the house after all the bustle and arrangements of funeral etc. I am sure it is harder in a way for us because we spent so much time with our partners. Far more than any ‘normal’ relationship. Caring takes all the hours in a day unless you are lucky to have some help. Even so, it is hard to leave your loved one and for most of us, we were hardly apart in the last few weeks at all. How close we became, almost breathing together in the end, watching and tending to their needs in those last precious moments together. Then the exhaustion that arrived when all was completed and all necessary paperwork attended to. I could not think of anything except my loss and the wishing he was with me here again.I found myself spending much time sleeping in the first few weeks, buried deep beneath mounds of duvet; the weather was freezing with snow that matched well my icy heart and body. I did not wish to wake from the place without pain but I would always manage to get up in the early hours, shower and dress. The first thought on waking was so painful and my whole body shook with grief and longing. I found it hard to get warm although the central heating is perfectly adequate. Being shivery is normal I believe and impossible to get warm I would creep back to bed at the first opportunity. All I longed for were hot baths and even hotter mugs of black tea and to be completely alone.Fancy those being the only things that could bring comfort during this time, I would clasp the mugs of tea as if they were a life line.

You have told me of your comforts, how different we all are but whatever works is the right path to take. As these days go by we will see a progress in taking a new direction with our lives and that in turn may give us some peace. Look forward to hearing from you again.

All fondest wishes and hope for your recovery.

Susie x

“Tell yourself how well you do. You may discover you’re doing better than you thought”

Permission granted as “open letters”  All Rights Reserved.

“Sorrow is better than fear…

fear is a journey, a terrible journey,

but sorrow is at least an arriving.”

Alan Paton.

Looking back on the fifty- five months of  caring  for Hamada and although the sadness is an utterly desolate pit to try to escape from. I am inclined to agree with the words above. From the time of diagnosis although very hard to take onboard, my first and paramount thought was how can I make this time, this journey for Hamada the best it can be. Most  importantly especially at the end.

At times this consumed me but certainly not all the time. I was so busy fighting for the best treatment for him and learning all I could about the particular disease of Multiple Myeloma but often in the early hours of the morning when sleep was over and my mind was as sharp as it can be these days. I worried that perhaps the end would not be as I hoped for him.

I had talked to Hamada as the months went by about what he wanted most when the time came. We did not dwell on these morbid thoughts and often I denied positively that this time was not on the horizon, or in the next few months as was first thought. Often declaring  sincerely that he would probably outlive me.

I always gave Hamada great hope that this would not be for many years to come and certainly for a vast number  of MM sufferers this is now so. Hamada was a quietly wise man but he  had many complications that I knew were insurmountable and so I think did he.  We never gave way to hopelessness and only considered losing the battle on rare occasions. Never dwelling, just getting on with treatments and trying to make each day important  and special. With many goals to reach along the way.

I knew from these occasional discussions that he so wanted to be in our little home here in the country. He wanted to die looking at the sky in the comfort of his own bed, listening to his favourite songs and with me at his side. Thank goodness this was so.

So often as my family will testify, I worried(feared) that Hamada would be whisked away to hospital and not be where his heart desired to be ( hard one this). Very often by nature we panic when the time comes – wishing to help as much as possible to the end- never thinking that nothing more can be done, especially if it has been a long fight and many battles won.  A hard place to arrive at in the Carers mind but so incredibly important and must be found. The time to know when it is ok to stop.

 And so yes, sorrow although so hard is better than fear. For fear is a dreadful journey, I can attest to that.

23rd Jan 2011 – 2months since Hamada died.

My beautiful Daughter-in-law Sandrine Rutherford  is Swimming 2.5k on 9th April 2011, in loving memory of Hamada for the Marie Curie Cancer Care Charity. Sponsor her please if you can, at www.swimathon.org

For more information about Swimathon 2011, visit www.swimathon.org or contact us on info@swimathon.org or call 0845 36 700 36       

Although my days are painful I am making small beginnings towards reshaping my life without my loved one. It is good for me to write once more and I have started in a small way. The snow is still heavy on our lanes and now with even more predicted the temperatures  are falling sharply once  more. It feels as if it has been a long Winter already, as my thoughts turn to my first Christmas in more than thirty years without my special one. Today I decorated the Christmas tree, it would have been so easy to ignore but with my family arriving at this special time, what would our dear Grandson think if there was no tree ?  Grandpa loved the twinkling lights and would always admire gracefully the work involved. I can see them both together, looking at all the little ornaments collected over the years. My heart ached for Hamada today as I completed this task.

I walked in the snow and laid a perfect cream rose on Hamada’s grave this week. I know I am still shocked and numb but accepting and peaceful that I did all that could possibly be done to ease and comfort him during these past years. The pattern of each persons grief is unique to them, mine has been shaped by the particular relationship we had. All that was ever needed to be said, was said.

And so:  I don’t really believe that you ever “get over” such a significant loss in your life, grieving is among the most sacred thing you will ever do. This quiet abiding feeling is I feel a connection to my precious loved one.  I don’t really ever wish to lose it, my memory of him and our time together will always be maintained as I embark on a different chapter of my life.

So I decorated the tree observing our tradition with a simple ceremony that eased my pain.I can see Hamada’s lovely smile and his delight at this years result. “Missing you Habibi”

“I wish all my readers far and wide a very Happy Holiday and much  joy and peace to you all”

AS the snow lay heavily across this perfect land. Temperatures plummeted to an all time low. Lanes were covered thickly with snow and packed ice. Branches weighed heavily with icicles as though they wept their perfect tears along with our sorrow. Important paths were cleared by a team of willing men as brilliant sunshine played and danced on crystal ‘water-diamonds’ studded on pasture lands.

We stood on that first day to receive this special man. Tightly together, our breath pluming feather like, into the crisp harsh air. All his dear ones so close, each with their own special memories of  this much loved, dignified and courageous man.

The first evening brought many to pay respects, travelling the length of the UK  to this beautiful little place on Gods earth. Staying in guests cottages on farms and in nearby bed and breakfasts houses. Filling with love as they arrived, the empty space in my heart. Each bringing their quiet thoughts and memories along to ‘celebrate’ this good mans life.  We chatted and yes, we laughed into the evening , talking of fun times together just as if this beloved man was still sitting with us. We spoke of special dates, birthday, holidays, fun times at the beach, love filled that evening reception. The cosy warm rooms with food aplenty also warmed our hearts .

The day arrived for our final goodbyes.  Limousines were prepared, large shiny ‘ rooks of travel’  deliciously comfortable, mine  with a thoughtful small crystal glass of  brandy resting in holder to ward off the bitter cold. Nothing had been missed… nothing left to chance…

My mind seemed detached and yet clear ‘picture memories’ that will remain forever with me began to etched on my mind. My dearest daughter-in law thoughtfully bringing to my bedroom a soft linen handkerchief, the hugs of my two stalwart sons who seemed to be taking care of everything. I remember clearly a vision of my youngest son Jo bending to adjust  tenderly the tie of my Grandson Manu, resplendent in perfect little black suit, his sad dear  face and the hugs he gave me so often during the day, will never leave my heart. The Bells tolled across the village, calling all to this resting place.

The oh! so slow drive, carefully negotiated on ice covered lanes, the congregation filling the church, the prayers, the many readings, the just beautiful strains of  chosen music and hymns.  The overwhelming smell of  lilies and eucalyptus covering the casket,  brought tears to my eyes.

The guidance of our dear Reverend Avril, her clear voice fully in charge of proceedings but tear- filled eyes gave away this confident stance. The Stunning photo of Hamada, that our dear niece Ellie had skilfully had enlarged and had  propped against a tall glass vase of  more triumphant  white lilies for all to be able to see,our handsome man.

The splashes of mauve coloured scarves and beautiful arrangements of flowers lovingly prepared with special care caught my eye. The pink cheeks of my sisters who’s eyes showed such deep sorrow. Their dear husbands grieving for the loss of their much loved brother.

My body shook with grief as I heard the first rendering, the beautiful  Hymn “Abide With Me” the  clear delightful voice of Katherine Jenkins filling the air.Two strong hands from either side covered mine, it was enough.

Tears fell to the strains of “Ai giocco addio” from Romeo and Juliet the powerful voice of Luciano Pavorotti echoing against  the strong stone walls of this tiny ancient place, such a favourite of ours and played so often in our home.

The pride I felt at the words of  the five tributes, each perfectly clear and delivered with such compassion, each telling their own poignant story.

The words of the Eulogy read in perfect tones by my eldest Son Matt, containing only words that God could have guided his hand to write.  Telling  the most perfectly unique and complete story of our beloved Hamada. “ The days run away like wild horses over the hills”   continued to tell so much of  this dear mans life and then to finish his reading  with Khalil Gibran “The Springtime Of Love”  a poem found marked in one of  Hamada’s books. I shall keep Matt’s wonderful words safely by me for the rest of my days, they were so beautiful.

The village elder speaking in reply, with such love, support and total tenderness taking our breath away with his sincerity, and perfectly clear and powerful words of kindness his skilful reading of the ancient Psalm 23 .

The tears from everyone, as we gathered closely together and all sang along with Elton John “ Can You Feel The Love Tonight” 

Some so moved that the words could not come, as the love surrounded and filled this tiny place. My dear girl friend’s face so wet, with such huge tears of sadness.

We sat in silence as Ray Lamontagne’s  beautiful guitar rift “ Truly, Madly, Deeply” gently filled our hearts.

The final:  Ray Lamontagne’s“ All The Wild Horses” completed this long farewell as everyone stood in honour.

SO many things I will remember from that God given day that allowed us to say our goodbyes,  to a perfect and much love gentleman. Youngest son Jo reciting a “Surah” in Arabic, his strong deep voice so much like his Father’s, clear in the bitter sun-filled air.

The family standing in resplendent smartness on crisp white snow as they threw their white roses of peace the long way down,  then the men – including our beloved Grandson – with hands full of dust  “dust to dust, ashes to ashes” never have I felt such love, love that surrounded these two days. Days that will never ever fade from my memory. 

“May God bless you my Habibi and grant unto you eternal peace forever Amen”.

Photo of Lilies,cream roses,eucalyptus and banana leaves taken by Janey Johnson with thanks.

All Rights Reserved.

My beloved Hamada quietly and peacefully and with great dignity left us today to go home to be with God.

“Dear Universe a new angel has joined. He is handsome, caring, loving and a great symbol of courage and strength. His wings spread across the globe sincerely and lovingly touching the lives of many. His journey on earth has been an inspiration of courage to us all”

More messages of condolence on www.susiehemingway.blogspot.com  and shown also in comments here.

23 November,

Just a short update for those who are awaiting news of our dear Hamada, especially our family in Egypt. Hamada has started his final journey home to rest. Yesterday a wonderful nurse from the Macmillan support team came to visit at home and confirmed what I already knew. Hamada is slipping quietly to his resting place. He is no longer speaking or drinking he has a ‘rattle’ on his chest and his body is slowly shutting down. I have spent all of the night hours watching over him, catching small naps when I can.
The Doctor is to arrive shortly and will bring or prescribe all necessary drugs to administer by injections or patches for Hamada’s comfort now that he is not swallowing well.
For the nurses who I know read this web-blog: Hamada did not pass urine for 24 hours, but today some, which I believe shows his kidneys have not completely shut down yet. It is a much better way for him to ‘pass’ if they do.
As our Jo said, perhaps this is our last miracle for this journey to end peacefully this way and I pray with all my heart for this to be for my beloved Warrior. It is also possible that he will stay in this ‘dream like’ state for a few more days yet although I do not believe so, he is extremely weak now.
My Sister Jenny and brother-in-law Ian, lovingly came this morning to help me tenderly bathe him and to change linens and to make Hamada smell just like I know he loves, all friends will know how fussy Hamada is with his love of good cologne. He is peaceful and in no pain, dearly sweet and surrounded with much love

Hamada has spoken very little during the last two days, managing only to smile and greet the family who have all been here at "Hemingway" this weekend. I know by his smiles that he has enjoyed so much, seeing them all during this bittersweet weekend.

Jo gave his father a wonderful shave, something that I was not managing to do very well!  It was a wonderful time of family closeness. I received some of the best much needed hugs, which have given me more courage to continue after this long worrying week.

After everyone had left I managed to get Hamada to his favourite chair in the sitting room during the early evening, thus giving me time to put fresh linens on his bed. He was not speaking at all during this time not eating anything, just dozing on and off. During the middle of the evening he became more agitated and seemed a little distressed so I helped him back to the safety of his bed.

As I settled him down for the night he spoke, his voice clear for the first time in two days. He was tearful and told me that he was very tired now but needed to say something, struggling to find the words he said that he did not think he could continue any further, almost as if he was asking for permission to go. I let him know gently that it was now time for him to rest and for him not to be concerned about anything but sleeping now. He spoke about his love for me and his worries of leaving me and I reassured him that I would be fine, his beautiful words brought a few gentle tears to us both. I laid my face close to his as he settled into a very calm deep sleep and so a time of loving observation and a night vigil for me began. It is now 6am and Hamada is still sleeping, his breathing just a gentle rhythm in the quietness of the house and as I go for my shower I wonder what this new day will bring and is it time now?

The terrible headache which has been with Hamada for a week now, has become too much for him to bear. Yesterday he was prescribed control release Morphine and also liquid morphine for extra support. As we are now back with our own local GP, he is of the opinion that this headache is being caused by the lowering of kidney function even further. The kidneys will have course, taken a great strain during the recent blood and platelet transfusions even though great care was taken to transfuse really slowly ( 6 Hours ). Hamada has been in such great pain from this headache which cannot be allow to continue, hence the Morphine being started yesterday. All the family are here this weekend which is a great support. So much joy they all bring with them and they have been quietly chatting for short times with Hamada and the delight shows on his dear face as he enjoys seeing them so much. We are being spoilt as we have both had recent birthdays, wonderful days all together…just being…