I'm desperately trying not to jump in a car, and drive to Eau Claire, WI. My dear friend and former piano professora has begun at-home hospice care for her husband. We speak to each other weekly, mostly by phone, sometimes by e-mail. I know that there is absolutely nothing that I can say or do - the distance from CO to WI is achingly far.
She seems focused on her task at hand - enjoying the time she has left with her husband, making him as comfortable as possible, and prioritizing what does and does not have to be done right now. Family members have volunteered to assist her in caretaking, which is a relief. Still, you can hear the hurt in her voice, and it absolutely tears me up. I'm guessing the woman is all of 5 feet tall (at the most), yet carries herself like a woman twice her height. Where she draws her inner-strength, I'll never know - she has always been an amazing rock. Her love and adoration for her husband is evident, and my heart breaks to think of her angst.This woman has made an indelible mark on my life, my music, my heart. Her influence shaped the teacher I am today, and the musician I continually aspire to be. I write these thoughts to spread a sense of warmth and comfort to her family, as all I can really offer right now is hope, support, prayer, and love.