it’s so hard not to have regret. the last time i spent time with you outside of the ICU was at moms. it was sunday, the night before halloween. halloween is one of our favorite holidays because we get to dress up and act goofy. this was not something abnormal, as we always were looking for reasons to dress up and be silly. 🙂 but halloween, at least we ‘fit in.’ you were feeling extra sick on sunday so you missed going to the nursing home with us. i hated that because you have a special connection with nanaw and you loved going there to spend time with her. you showed up later at mom and dads just before the big group of us started gutting and carving the pumpkins. you kept to yourself on the chair across the room. it was all over your face that you felt like shit. you looked sick. you were so skinny and frail. you could see it mostly in your eyes. man, i’ll never forget those eyes. i had never seen eyes like those before, sunken in and dark. when dad was in the hospital really sick with his burst appendix, he had your eyes. you’ve never looked like dad, and britt and i both saw your face in his. it was his eyes too. it was scary because it was visible proof how sick his insides were, like yours. it was such a relief when he got better and his eyes went back to normal. i never told him how hard it was to look at his face because i didn’t want to upset him.

you hardly had the energy to walk that day. there were kids everywhere, not just our family’s. it was loud and i knew how hard the noise was on you. since you were back on chemo again, the ringing in your ears was excruciating as was the amplifying of sound. when you finally gathered up the energy to come into the dining room with me, you sat under a blanket, shivering. at that point you could hardly feel your feet and hands because of the damn chemo side effects. nothing kept them warm, even layers of socks and slippers. (by the way, your slippers did arrive from zulily after nov 3. ben wanted me to have them, i wear them almost daily. thank you.) you sat diagonal from me at the dining room table. dannette, dale and i were helping the kids decorate cupcakes for halloween. the kids were making a mess of candy and icing. i could hardly talk to you because i was trying to keep a disaster from happening on mom’s white carpet. you sat there staring into space. (now i imagine you were staring death in the face, begging it to leave you be.) you kept your bottom lip in between your teeth as you kept peeling off the chapped skin. when you weren’t biting, you were picking. it became a nervous habit of yours while you were sick and we constantly tried to stop you from doing it.(it’s so strange that nori started doing this very same thing. it’s an instant reminder of you.) nori of course kept trying to sit on your lap like always because she loved being next to you. i had to keep yelling at her because you didn’t have the strength to hold her, as much as i know you wanted too. olivia kept walking up to you with open arms calling mama. you could hardly muster up smile it was so much work, you certainly couldn’t lift olivia. your eyes were heavy as you stared blankly. you were physical there, but hardly mentally. i could tell you just wanted to be in a warm bed sleeping. we knew you were so weak from anemia from the lack of blood in your system. you were being given blood by the bags at that point, every time you were in the hospital. you should have gotten some a couple days prior but you refused to deal with the hassle of being at the hospital with the likelyhood of being admitted. halloween weekend was that important to you and you didn’t want to miss our family fun. little did we know you would spend your last halloween in the hospital anyway. (monday, you found out your blood platlets were supposed to be around 150 and you had less than 5 in your body. they told us while you were fighting for your life in the ICU that the cancer was eating your platlets faster than they could replace them. eff cancer.) i still wish you would have had a transfusion that friday, maybe you would have had one more day with us?

we tried to small talk but you can’t do that in a house full of 20 adults and like 8 small children! i wish you could have helped us decorate the cupcakes. the kids had so much fun. after all, we started that tradition after you decided to buy kits and getting fancy for each occasion. (you would have loved the dogs erin and i made for nori’s bday by the way.) every time i started to ask you a question i got distracted. looking back, why did i care how many gummy worms the kids were eating? my very sickly sister was sitting in front of me and i should have been more concerned about you. i guess i just got so used to you keeping to yourself the last couple months, i figured you didn’t want to be bothered. you HATED when people helped you too much or suggested you do something else, like lay down. you just wanted to be treated normal as often as possible. we just always wanted you to be comfortable.

after the halloween craziness we had our last prayers with you. after months of praying as a family every sunday night for yours and everyone else’s well being, that was it. the last time you would sit on moms couch bundled up next to ben. the last time we would say in our intentions that the chemo would be easy on your body and that you would soon be healed. the last time we would break bread as a family of 5. the last time we would say the hail mary, your favorite prayer, together, with your eyes open. even when we start back up the sunday prayers, if we do, there will be a void in the rm. and now we have to pray through you, not for you. and now you look down on us, with our heavy hearts as we pray for you to help us make it through each of our days.

i’ve refused to move your name from the 3rd favorite spot on my phone, just under adam and mom. i occasionally scroll through my texts with you too. lord, you were a terrible texter, even before you were sick. i used to tease you about it all the time. i never understood how we could be texting quickly back and forth, i ask you a question and then 24 hrs later you’d answer. i swear it was like you saw my question and threw your phone as far as you could so you don’t have to respond til you relocate your phone again…which was sometimes more than a day. the last 4 texts i didn’t get a response. the first was on 10/25, me telling you “i can’t come up to the hospital because nori finally just fell asleep.” what an idiot, i hate that i didn’t just put her in the car and go. (BUT IF YOU WOULD HAVE RESPONDED THE NIGHT BEFORE when i asked about visiting, i would have known you wanted me to visit and would have planned on it! dang. 🙁 ) the second last was on halloween, you had been readmitted that morning because your insides were a wreck. you needed to be pumped full of nutrients, blood and fluid. brittany dressed up as mickey mouse and you were supposed to be minnie. i texted, “we missed minnie tonight!! 🙁 thinking of you, hope you feel completely rejuvenated tom!” little did we know your body was incapable of rejuvenating by that point. my final text to you on the morning of november 3rd after i got the call that you had double pneumonia, “stay strong. u can fight this shit…you’re already beating the cancer!!!” you never read it. when i was by your side in the ICU, i held your phone all day and i saw the text was never opened. i was calling your out of town friends so they could tell you in your ear one last time that they loved you.

i told you tuesday night we talked on the phone and i said i’d come see you at the hospital. you were too sleepy to have more than our folks, ben and olivia up. earth map so i never came up. why the hell didn’t i come up anyway? my last visit with you, was my final goodbye. i did all the talking, but i have no idea if you could hear me. i’m sure you could. i just wish we could have had one more conversation. i just wish i could hear your voice when i talk to you now. one last time, not from a recording.

so that was it. the last convo we had was, “i’ll see you soon, i love you,” as you walked out mom and dad’s door and you said, “ok, love you too.” the same last words i said to you before they closed your pink casket, i just imagined your answer to me was the same…

i miss you. mel.