I am not usually a perfectionist to the point that if everything isn’t perfect I will have a melt down but Pharon’s funeral had to be perfect. It was the last thing I could do for him before he was buried. In talks that we had early in our marriage we both agreed that we were fine being cremated UNLESS we had minor children. If either of us passed and our children were young then we needed to be buried so our children would have a place to visit and process things.

Pharon made one thing clear. If he was buried he did not want to be put in his dress Greens. He never liked them and did not want to be buried in them. So when it came time to decide what I was going to do it was easy. My soldier would be buried in his ACU’s and look just like he did the first day I first saw him in uniform. The night Pharon passed away I dug out a complete uniform and patches. It has to be perfect. I knew that the songs I wanted sang were the songs that I sang to him every day. Songs that brought me so much comfort for those 40 days and 40 nights. Take Courage and How Great Thou Art. I knew I did not want to talk in front of anyone but I knew I wanted something from me read. I knew I wanted and needed the church I grew up in and the church that I currently attended to be part of the service. Both churches hold such a place in my heart. One church is where Pharon found his salvation and the other is where we were attending at the time he passed. We both loved all of our Pastors. Both churches has stood by me and held me up during this journey.

The day after Pharon passed I had a lot of phone calls to make. It has to be perfect. This consumed my mind. My love deserves the best going home service that I can throw together. Most of my phone calls were to different people in the Delaware Army National Guard. The first phone call about did me in. The soldier was expecting my call and he called me Ma’am. Now I know its out of respect and soldiers had been calling me ma’am forever but today I could not handle it. Every single time he called me ma’am I fell apart. My mind wandered while he was talking to me and it hits me. I am a military widow. This gentleman is considering me a military widow. I mean, I know I am but I am not ready for that title yet. I am still Sgt. Hameed’s wife. Thru the next few days I am calling and texting battle buddies of Pharon’s to try and locate a hat and boots. I can’t bury my soldier without his hat and boots. I remember clear as day Pharon telling me I cant bury him any different than if he was reporting for duty. A soldier has to have his boots and good socks. It has to be perfect. I dug through every single pair of socks he had. None looked nice enough. I bought a new pack. His undershirts didn’t look nice enough. Back to wal-mart for a new pack. One of his buddies coordinates a brand new uniform, boots and badges so my children can have daddys originals. Pharon’s best friends wife helps me press it. It can’t have seams. It has to be perfect.

Ok now I have my soldier’s clothes ready. I need to look a certain way. I need sheer stockings and black heels. I am Sgt. Hameed’s wife. I need to make him proud. The Delaware Army National Guard is a very tight knit group and I know there will be higher ranking soldiers and officers attending the services. Sgt. Hameed’s wife needs to look presentable. I need the perfect earrings. My nails must look nice. My hair and makeup must be on point. I want him to be proud of me. I want to look the best I can the last time I will ever be in the presence of his body. I know in my head that his spirit is gone but its still my husband laying there. It has to be perfect.

My onset of this need for perfection mixed with the emotions of losing Pharon just about set me over the edge. I ended up back at the doctors office. I need my meds adjusted. But its the first doctors visit of the year. Yearly forms have to be filled out.

Marital Status

I stared at that question for probably a minute straight. They want me to write it out.

WIDOW

I fall apart.

Emergency Contact

This is too much. I am not ready to change it back to my brother yet.

Things that most people don’t even think twice about were setting me into sobbing panic attacks. I meet with my doctor and let him know that I lost Pharon. He doesn’t even blink an eye at upping my anti-anxiety meds. I need them to help me make it perfect.

January 2, 2019, my alarm goes off at 6am. I had barely gotten two hours of sleep. It’s time to do this. Everything had been planned. Everything was set in place. My cousin and friend coordinated a police escort. Freedom riders were coming to honor my love. I go to my dear friends salon and she made my hair absolutely perfect. Ok its time to do this. I am not ready to do this. I sat in Torberts parking lot next to the church for a good 10 minutes just staring at the hurst sitting in front of the church. My husband is in there. oh my God this is really happening.

I finally get the nerve to drive over and get my precious baby who would never remember his daddy out of the truck. I explained how I wanted the procession to be lined up and finally go inside. I found 10 different reasons to not go into the sanctuary. The undertaker gives me a heads up that Pharon was just too swollen to put his boots on. OK but they have to be buried with him. A soldier doesn’t report for duty without his boots. It has to be perfect. Finally I can’t put it off anymore. The plan was for me to go in by myself first and then the rest of the family could go. I couldn’t do it. I grabbed my brother and he walked me in. The last time Johnny walked me down this isle was on my wedding day. Same position too. Me on the left and him on the right. This is the last time he will walk me to my love. My soldier looks perfect in his final resting place. He has a look of peace on his face. Oh my God this is really happening.

By the time guests start to arrive I am heavily medicated so I could even breath. My anxiety is through the roof. There are more soldiers there than I had ever anticipated. My husband was so loved by the Delaware Army National Guard. I felt a peace and security having them there. I remember thinking, man everyone looks so nice. Why didn’t he like this outfit?

Pastor Ryan from Calvary Church and Pastor Kenneth from UNITED Church arrive. It’s time to do this. I say one last goodbye to my love and tuck the blanket around him. I give him one last kiss. Soldiers from the Delaware Army National Guard place Pharon’s flag on his casket. My love is being honored like he should be. The freedom riders do a small ceremony and present a pin and flag to my mother in law and myself. My dear friends lead a worship song that had always meant so much to me.

“Take courage my heart, stay steadfast my soul, He’s in the waiting. Hold onto your hope, as your triumph unfolds, He’s never failing”

 

This verse alone brings me comfort. I raise my arms to God because even in the midst of everything that had happened I STILL had the most faithful God on my side. He never fails. We may not understand his plan but “He brings all things together for the good of those who love him,” Romans 8:28. He will never leave me. God watched his only Son be crucified so he understood my pain. Things and people on earth can and will fail you. God never fails us. We may not understand why he allows things to happen. I don’t know why my husband is gone. But I do know that it was God’s timing to take him home. I do know that I will rise in His Victory.  Pharon was so sick for so long. His healing did not come on this earth. As we sang that song I began to praise God for healing my husband. I was praising him for bringing so many people into my life to hold me up here on earth while he was doing his work in heaven. I was claiming the Victory in Jesus even though I didn’t understand why this was happening to me.  I was fixing my eyes on Jesus instead of my circumstance.  

https://youtu.be/r49V9QcYheQ

I was told the procession was over two miles long. We were escorted by four State of Delaware Troopers and four City of Dover Policemen. At every intersection there were troopers in their SUV’s blocking traffic. Route 1 northbound was shut down as we drove up to the Veterans Cemetery in Bear. My soldier is getting treated like the hero he was. The ceremony starts and I can’t even tell you what was said to me when the flag was given tome. The sounds of the gunshots pierced my ears. I am a military widow now I guess.

My husband gave his life for our country. Yes he went into the hospital for the flu and once the flu and MSSA collided it turned into a super bug for lack of better words. But the thing is, if his heart was healthy when he got sick, he could have fought it off. Pharon got cardiomyopathy while serving in the Army. The Veterans Administration finished up their investigation last week and the government acknowledged, in writing, that Pharon’s death was service connected.While this opens many more doors for the children and myself, it was a HUGE and JAGGED pill to swallow. My husband loved the Delaware Army National Guard more than anything. I know he never regretted a second of his service. If he had not gotten sick, he would still have been serving. After getting confirmation ofhis death being service connected, it made me even more content with how his services went.

It was perfect. Sgt. Hameed was laid to rest with the fullest level of respect and honor that he deserved. It was perfect.

Many times in life we will be working on a goal and then BOOM, a monkey wrench is thrown into the mix and it distracts us from the goal. We could have been focused for hours, days, weeks or even months and all of a sudden we lose our groove and then it takes a while to find it again. The same rings true with our spiritual walk with God. We know what we need to do, we have our tools (the Bible and church attendance to get fed weekly), we get into a comfortable space in our continuing journey to become closer to God and then BOOM, something happens to make us question things. It throws the groove off. It could be something big or something small in either situation. It could be as small as baking soda and graham crackers……

Pharon loved things. All things. A lot of things. If he spent a penny on it, no matter how small or large the item, you can trust and believe he was going to keep it. His philosophy was “I paid for it so I am gonna keep it!” This caused a 10,000 car pile up of unnecessary stuff in our home, vehicles, and a storage unit that we paid for monthly. Nothing, and I mean nothing can set me into a mood quicker than when I see central storage on my bank statement every month. I might as well throw money right out the window. Pharon was a hoarder. I am not joking. A real hoarder. The stuff he would keep, most people, myself included, would just throw away. In my mind, just because the hotel room we paid for had powdered creamer on the coffee bar does not mean we have to take it home. I don’t use powdered creamer so therefore it can stay. Paid for or not. Not Pharon. Nope. That powdered coffee creamer was coming home so it can sit on the counter for a few weeks until I am sure he has forgot about it and can throw it out while he is at work. If I get caught an argument is sure to start.

So since the beginning of December I have been cleaning out my home. When I started, I got rid of a bunch of stuff, knowing that Pharon would have a melt down fit over it, but not caring because if I was going to be taking care of a stroke victim I was going to have to make things as easy on myself as possible. As my momma used to say “you can get mad and you can get glad.” Haha. Clearing stuff out while Pharon was living was no big deal. I was going as fast as I could when I would be home with the kids on the weekends.

Once Pharon passed away it was a different story. Some things were easy to throw away while others gave me anxiety. I keep falling into the train of thought of “oh I have to keep this or Pharon is going to get mad!” Clearing out the clothes was easy. Until I got to the uniforms. I could not bring myself to pack them up. I had no issues giving away clothes that were brand new to someone who could use them. I had no problem throwing away clothes that were way past their prime. Picking pieces of clothing to give to family as mementos didn’t phase me. The Army uniforms have to stay put. Pharon had been retired for almost 7 years but he was still Army to the core to the very end. He would sing our children cadences all the time. The thought of packing the uniforms up became a monkey wrench in my plans for clearing our home out. It made a mountains of emotions well up. As I stood in my closet staring at these uniforms it was another reminder that my love was gone.

After a few days I managed to pack up probably 15 boxes of Pharon’s things so the kids would have them when they got older. I wanted them to be able to choose what they wanted as I told them stories behind the items.

As I dig thru Pharon’s things I find his most treasured possessions. I find hundreds of dollars in two dollar bills and coins stashed in random places. As I am digging thru things I find anniversary cards with love notes from Pharon. It makes my heart happy. Then I find another monkey wrench. A letter Pharon had wrote for me but never gave me. It made the world stop for me. As I read his deepest feelings and thoughts for me I missed my love even more. This man loved me more than any man has ever loved me. He was my other half. I was his Bonnie and he was my Clyde. He completed me and now he is gone. No more anniversary cards, no more good morning texts, no more having a man who is so insanely proud to have me as his wife. Now I am off course of getting things cleaned up again and I do nothing for days.

Last week I did one more big push in cleaning our bedroom. I have been trying to make it look completely different so it’s not so painful to be in there. My kids are finally out of my room and in theirs and so I am left by myself in my bed. The bed I shared with my love. I cleaned out almost 20 tubs, bags and boxes. I pick up the last bag I have touched in the room. It’s the overnight bag Pharon took to the hospital for the last time. I sat and stared at it. I had probably moved the bag 50 times while cleaning and purposely putting it off. When I opened it I froze. I saw the zip lock bag of baking soda and 3 packs of graham crackers. I began to sob uncontrollably. I knew those graham crackers were for the kids because he always brought home juice and crackers for Brianna when he would be in the hospital. In my mind I could imagine him tucking the crackers in the bag for his best girl. The bag of baking soda was the subject of discussion in the last conversation Pharon and I had before he walked into the hospital for the last time. Pharon loved to brush his teeth with plain baking soda. That night he had a solo cup filled with it and was about to walk into the emergency room with it. Me and my infinite wisdom say “don’t take it in there like that you will look suspect…..here put it in a zip lock bag”. As if a fluffy white powder in a zip lock bag didn’t look even more suspect.

I am stuck again. I haven’t worked on my room since finding the baking soda and graham crackers. This simple sight has taken the wind out of me again. I try to remind myself that Pharon would want me to do what I need to do to have the best life I can have now. He wouldn’t get mad. He loved me unconditionally and would understand.

But for some reason, baking soda and graham crackers have seemed to be my biggest hurdle so far.

It’s so important to have the hard conversations when you get married. The conversations about what happens if one of you passes away. What quality of life do you want? How long do you hold on? How do you really feel about your spouse remarrying? What are your feelings about your children calling someone else mommy or daddy? It’s a conversation that everyone needs to have with hopes that the wishes are never forced to be carried out.

Monday, December 17, 2018, it’s time to have the dreaded conversation with the medical team. Its time to carry out the wishes Pharon and I talked about so many years ago. I feel like I am going to throw up. I stumble on my words. I have moments of doubt. Then I looked at the shell of a man that I love more than anything and I am reminded it’s time. We discussed why, when and how I wanted this to all happen. I needed a day to be with him and to coordinate getting my children and family to Philadelphia. I needed time to make sure the closest friends who were like family were able to say good bye. I knew in my heart he wasn’t going to make it more than a couple hours at best off the ventilator. The palliative care team came in and discussed all of my options. I want him comfortable and in no pain. I asked for the fentanyl drip to be turned back on. I had to sign a DNR order. I think I stared at this paper for a solid minute straight before I signed it.

I CAN NOT DO THIS.

For the second time in my life I am looking into the face of a medical professional and saying let the most important man in my life go. I CAN NOT DO THIS!!

I looked at Pharon again and fell apart. Honey I am so sorry. I tried to make you better and it didn’t work but I know THIS is NOT what you want.

It’s done. Oh my word it’s done. This is REALLY happening.

I sat the rest of the day by his side and just stared at him. I replayed the events of the last month and last year in my head. Everything right down to the financial decisions we had made. All of a sudden it was like a light bulb went off. God had been setting things in place at least up to a year before this last hospitalization to prepare me for this. Little and big things alike. All part of the orchestra of our life and now we are at the crescendo. The monthly hospitalizations when I would have to play single mom for a week at a time—preparing me for the long haul. Financial decisions we made—-setting the kids and I up for the loss of income. The roller coaster of medical issues—forcing me to lean more on God and seeing how His plan works from time to time. Making the decision to become part of a ministry team at church—-set the kids and I up for the most amazing support system ever. Becoming involved in our daughters school—-again, setting the kids and I up for a phenomenal support system. I know this was God setting this up because these are all things that I STRUGGLED with making the decision to do. They all stretched me. They all made me evaluate who I was both good and bad. These decisions made me find who I really was instead of who I had thought I was for years. This was uncomfortable for me. But it was all needed to create the foundation for what was coming. God knew I needed that foundation to make it thru His plan for Pharons ultimate healing.

Monday night before I left the hospital I told Pharon I needed him to hold on until I could get back the next day. I go home and after I got the kids settled in bed I ordered my dress for the funeral that I knew was coming. Yes. I ordered my funeral dress while Pharon was still living. I was clicking thru a website and saw THE dress. Pharon had always loved gun metal grey. This dress was perfect. It was the dress that I would wear for the last time I would ever be in my husbands presence. He would have LOVED that dress on me. It was the perfect length and appropriate for what I was about to become. A military widow…..

Tuesday, December 18, 2018, I got up earlier than normal and really got dressed. No yoga pants, sweatshirt, sneakers and a pony tail today. Full outfit, hair done and full face of makeup. If Pharon happens to open his eyes I need him to see me at my best. I dropped the kids off at my cousin and aunts and got to Philadelphia by 6 am. I spent the entire day with my chair up to Pharon’s bed and the bed rail down. I would lift his arm and lay it on the back of my head as if he was rubbing my hair. I told him what we were doing later that day and that the kids and the rest of our family was coming.

Different friends that I had called came in to say their goodbyes. The presence of Pharons battle buddies and even officers who came in from the Delaware Army National Guard gave me such comfort. I knew that even though I was losing my soldier that I literally had an entire Army who would make sure we were ok. Even now I know it would only take one phone call and someone would be to me within minutes.

By around 10am Pharon was getting more and more agitated. He was showing signs of pain. I made it very clear that I did not want him in any pain and when it came time to take the ventilator out I did not want there to be any possibility of him being scared. By noon he was so agitated that he had rose up off the bed twice and his eyes rolled back in his head. This is torture for him. We are officially at the line in the sand. I asked for the doctors to come in. We needed to talk ASAP. There was a heart medicine he was on that he had to take to live. The plan was to stop everything at 6pm once the children and family were there. I asked how long that heart medicine would last in his system and decided to have it stopped at noon. The thought of him being in this much pain was more than I could bare. So the heart medicine was stopped and the fentanyl was pretty much maxed out. His blood pressure was 60/40. It was pretty much a miracle that his heart was beating at all at this point let alone him move.

For the next few hours I cried and sang to him.

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclimation,

And lead me home, what joy shall fill me heart!

Then I shall bow, with humble adoration,

And then proclaim “My God How Great Thou Art!”

The thoughts of how wonderful it would be for Pharon to meet our God and instantly be healed and instantly have a heavenly body brought me peace. I felt myself almost having a feeling of excitement for him. Not for losing my husband. But the knowing that he was going to be in the presence of the Ultimate Healer was overwhelming.

Around 4 pm family started arriving. The “plan” was that any of the adults could go in whenever but I did not want any of the children to see a tube in daddy or Uncle Pharons mouth. He would be free of any tubes and we would have his IV tubing covered. The medical team and myself really thought he would hold on for a little while after the tubes were taken out. Around 5:50 we decide it’s time. Everyone leaves the room but me. I am not going anywhere. My brother comes back in the room with me. It only takes seconds to get the ventilator out. Within minutes I am back at the right side of the bed by his side. Johnny is at his left. The same EXACT position we were in the night our father passed away. Pharon takes a really labored breath. Then another. I am able to choke out Its ok baby. You can go if you are ready. I love you. Then another labored breath.

I don’t know what made me think to do this but I yanked the blankets back and told Johnny to grab his hand and we held hands in a circle and said the Lords Prayer. By the time we said Amen he was gone. But I didn’t know for sure until a few moments later.

I don’t really remember actually going down but I do remember being on the floor sobbing so hard I felt like I was going to throw up. I remember feeling a couple hands on my back. It was my brother and Pharons nurse rubbing my back. I didn’t think it was going to happen so quick. I got up, fixed his blankets, got a wet towel to wipe his face and made him “more presentable” before anyone came in. I gave him a kiss and got myself together before walking out to to the waiting room. Over the next hour family came in and said goodbye. Once everyone was out I pulled the bed rail down again and laid next to my husband one last time.

This was probably the hardest post I have written so far. In my intro post I promised that I was going to be raw and vulnerable with you because I felt God was calling me to. This is my story. Not my whole story. Just a chapter in my story. God is still revealing to me what He has in store for Brianna, Deshawn and myself. Pharon was a huge part of our story. He still is a huge part of our story. This chapter played out the way it did in part because of the hard conversations we had in the beginning of our marriage. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I did what Pharon would have wanted. He would have wanted what was best for his children and wife. He would not have wanted to continue in such pain and torment. I know some of the decisions I make in the future are in line with what we discussed. I know that God put things in action a long time before I lost Pharon in order to set up the next chapter in the children and my lives.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you HOPE and a FUTURE” Jeremiah 29:11

On 12/9/18 Pharon had his last stroke. Stroke number 14. It’s weird to even type that. My husband had 14 strokes. Now I am sitting here stuck and don’t even know what to say.

The following day was yet another pivotal moment in his hospitalization that made me have to face reality. Out of no where Pharon coughed his ventilator tube out. I was sitting in the corner at the far end of the room furthest from the door. Luckily the nurses were there when it happened but I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. For the entire hospital stay I would hear random calls across the PA system for special teams to go to a certain location in the hospital. If I was not in the room I would pay close attention to which floor they said. This time I was in his room but when I heard Anesthesia to Founders 8, I knew that was for us. Within minutes his room is flooded by doctors, nurses, and respiratory specialist. I can hear him gasp for air. I am stuck in the corner, paralyzed by fear. I feel like a little girl again, listening to her mom gasp for air. Helpless. Terrified. Why are these memories choosing to flood back at a time like this?!

They medical team finally get the tube back in and things “calm” down. I sat again at just stared at what was left of Pharon. He was beginning to look unrecognizable. The once strong soldier that I knew wasn’t there anymore.  All I saw was the tired, beaten up body of the man that used to hold me tight and make me feel so safe. Now he laid there motionless.  Lord, for the life of me I can’t figure out why this is happening.  Why are you making me find out how strong I can be?  I sat in shock for the rest of the day.  It was probably one of the most traumatizing things I have ever been thru in my life.  Watching someone’s body rise up off of the bed, eyes rolling  back in their head, as they gasp for air will mark you.  It will change you.  It changes how you look at things.  It was this day that I sat there and asked God to be very clear with me what I was supposed to do from that point on.  Like I pretty much needed to have him smack me right in the head and be like “Shell do this or do that”.  

A few days later Pharon opened his eyes and attempted to communicate for the last time.  It was a very short window that he came out of the coma.  He wasn’t able to talk because he was still on the ventilator but I asked him to blink if he wanted to say yes.  

Pharon are you in pain? BLINK 

Pharon what do you want me to do?

Pharon are you tired of fighting? BLINK

Pharon are you ready to go to heaven? BLINK

Then he slowly closed his eyes.  It was the last time I saw his eyes.  It was Tuesday, December 11, 2018 at 11:53 a.m.  I know the exact time because I took a video of this last conversation.  The last time I would be able to look into the eyes of my love. 

Two days later I met with the entire medical team to talk prognosis.  It was nothing of what Pharon would have wanted if he did pull through.  He was blind.  His speech would be slurred.  Impaired memory.  Incontinence.  100% dependence on someone else.  The biggest problem was that with him being on sedation we couldn’t fully tell the extent of the damage from the strokes.  I asked for all sedation to be taken off effective 12/13/18.  Brianna had a Christmas play on the 14th and I wasn’t going to miss it so I stayed in Dover.  12/14/18-no changes.  He hadn’t woke up from sedation.  12/15/18, still nothing.  I had decided that if he hadn’t woke up by that Saturday afternoon that I was going up for the night.  I made the long trip up. I knew I was going up to make a decision.  After 3 days of no sedation he should be awake.  

I tried all night to get him to wake up.  I talked to him.  I sang to him.  I did things that I knew would irritate him.  Nothing.  No movement. There were two times that the nursing staff had to change him and the bed.  He showed no expression on his face as they were having to touch him in ways that any normal person would be uncomfortable.  I sat and took it all in.  I knew it was time to call my mother in law and have a talk.  I was terrified to dial the phone.  I didn’t know if I was going to come across resistance.  I am so incredibly blessed to have a mother in law who is a God Fearing woman and is so level headed and understanding.  We talked about best case scenario and agreed that the best case scenario would not be good enough for Pharon.  We talked about how we were getting dangerously close to it being cruel to hold on to him anymore.  We were in agreement that if God wanted Pharon to live he would and if God wanted Pharon home in heaven that there was nothing that we could do to keep him here.  I made the rest of the phone calls that needed to be made and then I came home to my babies.  

As I drove home that Sunday I had a peace come over me.  It was like God was saying You are putting all of your trust in Me, now let me take care of Pharon, you and your children the way that I need to. I remember saying out loud God I don’t know what you have planned in the next few days but I am trusting in you to get me thru whatever you decide. Then I choked out….I give Pharon to you. My playlist on my phone was on and “Praise You in this Storm” by Casting Crowns came on.  I had never heard it.  It was like everything clicked in my head at that moment.  I had no idea how my life was going to look in a few days.  I had no control.  The ONLY thing I had control of was if I chose to have faith in God’s will in the midst of probably the worst storm of my life.  I chose to have faith the God would get me thru it.  I chose to Praise Him in this storm. 

Its the only control I had left.

 

 

 

This week has been rough. Really rough. My new reality is beginning to set in and I haven’t handled it well. Monday it was the 3 month mark since I lost my love forever. Anger, disparity, panic, loneliness and immense sorrow have flooded my mind daily and sometimes all at once. Getting out of bed has been a huge job. I only got Brianna to school on Monday. Leaving my house has proved to be painful.

The thing is, when I go out I see the rest of the world living their life. They are happy. I see couples walking together in a loving manner memories flood my mind. It took YEARS to get Pharon to hold hands. By the time we were married he would randomly grab my hand as we walked wherever we were going. My hand would get lost in his. I miss his touch. I miss him coming up behind me for a kiss when he would get off work. I miss him rolling over in bed and pulling me close in his sleep. I miss how he would look at me like I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. I miss my best friend.

When I see a father with his children my heart aches. My children will never feel the strong hands of their daddy holding them up in the air again. No more tickle fights. No more dancing in the living room. No more trips to Spence’s bazaar for cake and pizza. No more hearing daddy tell Brianna that she is his best girl. No more hearing him tell Deshawn what sports he will play. Then I get angry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My children were supposed to have TWO present parents. They were supposed to have a better.

We are blessed to be taken care of even in Pharons absence. He worked so hard for years and it’s because of that hard work that our children and myself can live comfortably even now. But his hard work came at a horrible cost. The hard work essentially put the heart failure on the fast track. Our cardiologist confirmed this week that the congestive heart failure was a direct result of the cardiomyopathy. He got cardiomyopathy while serving in the Army. This information set me into a tailspin. While I know Pharon would be pleased to know that his hard work is still taking care of his children and wife even after his death, it’s another hard, jagged pill to swallow.

While it’s been hard to leave the house it’s hard to be in this house. Every room holds good and bad memories. Our living room is where he would dance with Brianna and take naps on the couch with both our children. It’s also where he would lay when he was too weak to make it up the stairs. The stairs he would have to stop at least twice to catch his breath as he went upstairs. Our bedroom we would put both kids in bed with us in the mornings and laugh and giggle with them. But it’s also our bedroom floor where I found him collapsed the night I took him in the hospital the last time.

Now is a time that I have to lean on my Heavenly Father more than ever. I don’t understand why this had to happen. I am tired. Man I am so tired. The exhaustion brings me to tears. Physically and mentally. I just want to sleep for two days straight. My meds make me even more tired but if I don’t take them I spiral out of control.

Today I officially paid off my car. Pharon bought me a brand new Sonata as a birthday/graduation gift. He let me pick out the model, trim and color. It was the first brand new car I have ever had. The man on the phone must have thought I was crazy because I started sobbing when he gave me the confirmation number and approximate time frame to look for the title in the mail. I knew that if I hadn’t lost Pharon I wouldn’t have the means to pay off the loan so quickly. I had feelings of guilt and sorrow creep in. I had to be reminded by his best friend how happy Pharon would be to know the kids and I are taken care of even if he can’t be here. All he cared about was his family and he would be at peace knowing we are ok.

The C is for the COURAGE I possess through the drama

H is for the HURT but its all for the Honor

A is for my ATTITUDE working through the patience

Money comes and goes so the M is for MOTIVATION

Gotta Stay consistent, the P is to PERSEVERE

The I is for INTERGRITY, INNOVATIVE career

The O is OPTOMISTIC, open and never shut

And the N is NECESSARY cause I’m NEVER GIVING UP!!

See they ask me how I did it, I just did it from the heart

Crushing the competition, been doing it from the start

They say that every Champion is all about his principles– Carrie—

I am INVINCIBLE, UNBREAKABLE, UNSTOPPABLE, UNSHAKEABLE, they knock me down, I get up again……I AM A CHAMPION!!!

Ludacris & Carrie Underwood

Pharon and I for the most part enjoyed the same kind of music EXCEPT for two people who ended up collaborating to make a song that is dear to my heart now. I love love love Carrie Underwood. I am not a country music kinda girl but I can appreciate talent and this girl has it. She is the only country singer I have ever seen in concert. Pharon on the other hand could have cared less about her. He loved Ludacris. He had all the albums an knew all the lyrics to all of the songs. I could live without Luda. Some, ok most, of his music is just a bit much for me.

I had heard the song The Champion before Pharon passed. I thought it was a really good collab and liked the message. I heard it again for the first time about a week after Pharon passed away. I was getting ready for the day and I had my Apple Music on. I was exhausted and losing Pharon was still very very raw for me. When Ludacris started his rap part I fell apart. In my head I could hear Pharon rapping right long with Luda just like he always did. I felt like this is something he would say to me. Pharon wasn’t the best with compliments but I always knew that he felt as though I was a good mother to our children and he knew that no matter what was going on that I always figured it out and made it happen. This song isn’t specifically written about what I am going thru right now but I can make comparisons easily.

I know if Pharon could talk to me from heaven he would “cheer” me on to keep going. He would encourage me to never give up. He would tell me to continue to raise his children to be strong.

Brianna calls this song the morning daddy song. I told her that daddy would like this song and now she asks to listen to it in the morning on the way to school. She knows most of the words.

So as you listen to this song and hear Ludacris rap…..imagine hearing Pharon’s super deep voice rapping along.

** Warning** There are a couple pictures of Pharon while in the hospital in this post.

I may have appeared all together but the week of December 3, 2018 I fell apart. Completely.

On December 3, 2018, the doctors inform me that they want to get a physical therapist in to get Pharon’s limbs moving to help combat the muscle atrophy that was occurring.  Even being bed ridden for a couple days will cause your  muscles to atrophy and by now Pharon has been in a hospital bed for almost a month.  I didn’t understand how they were going to get someone in a coma to move anything but ok.  The nurses come in and say they are going to move him into a chair.  He gets a hammock looking thing put under him and this pulley from the ceiling lifts him up in the air.

His limbs just dangle as they move him around.  I watched in disbelief.  The once large, strong man that I knew was just laying there, motionless in the air.  No facial expression. Nothing.  I felt like someone was sitting on my chest.  How am I ever going to be able to take care of him like this?! Our house isn’t set up to handle disabilities like this!  I can’t send him to a home.  What kind of wife would I be if I put him in a home?!!   Then they get him set up for therapy.

They had to use ace bandages to keep his hands on the machine.  Again, no reactions, facial expressions or anything.  

Something inside of me broke that morning.  I went outside and called my mom.  I was sobbing so hard that I am sure people walking by had to of thought that someone passed away.  I could not think clearly.  I couldn’t speak.  I couldn’t breath.  I couldn’t move.  I was on the sidewalk on my knees with my forehead against the brick wall and I could not get myself together enough to get up.  I was paralyzed completely with FEAR.  I think it was my mom who called my brother because within an hour he was in Philadelphia with me.  I was knocking at the door of a nervous breakdown.  I knew it.  My mom knew it.  The rest of my family was probably waiting for it. The rest of the week it only got worse.  My nerves were so bad that the wind blowing the wrong way would set me off.  The following morning Brianna just would not listen to me.  I ran out of the room and punched the wall.  I was afraid I was going to grab her.  

By the end of the day I saw exactly how bad it was. My hand was bruised and I had a hard time moving my finger. I don’t punch walls in anger. This has never been who I was but I had gotten to the point that everything felt out of control.

I knew I needed help and it was going to be in the form of more than prayer. I needed medicine. Many people view “psych” meds as something to be ashamed of. If you feel ashamed of taking antidepressants or anti-anxiety meds please don’t be. It doesn’t mean you are weak. It just means you need a little help to let the real you shine through. I am on an antidepressant and anti-anxiety medicine still. It doesn’t mean I am weak. It means I am strong enough to admit that I need a little extra help. I needed those meds then and I need them now to be the mom that I am called to be. I needed those meds then to be the advocate for Pharon that I needed to be. I needed those meds to help me think clearly. I needed to think clearly so the fear wouldn’t paralyze me anymore.

Music has always been a healing thing for me. Many times it helps express what I can’t. That week I probably played Oceans (Where Feet May Fail), by Hillsong at least a hundred times. It became my prayer. These lyrics were my exact plea to God.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, where ever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Saviour.

Hillsong United

Once I was able to get medicine I was able to think more clearly. See I could not understand why anything was anything anymore. But I knew that God had a plan. Honestly I didn’t like where it appeared that the plan was heading but I knew at the end it would be ok because I was not forsaken. I was not forgotten. God had not left me, Pharon or our children. I was holding onto the hem of his garment on behalf of all four of us. I was able to hold on tighter once I didn’t let fear paralyze me anymore.

My family is more supportive that I can even put into words.  My cousins and I can go weeks without seeing or talking to each other but when then cards are down and one of us needs something we all drop what we are doing and take care of business.  I have had what I would considered three major, life altering events in my lifetime. The death of my father, the day Brianna was born two months early and the death of my husband. Each time my family has dropped everything and was with me to hold me up.

By Thanksgiving, Pharon had been in Philadelphia for a little over two weeks.  Every single day it was something new happening.  I was exhausted.  I needed to be around my family. The plan was for me to go up and see Pharon in the morning and I was insistant on my family still having Thanksgiving dinner together in the afternoon. They were all prepared to come up to Philadelphia to be with me so I wouldn’t be alone on Thanksgiving. Things seemed to have stayed quiet for a few hours. OK we can get through this holiday.  No matter what I still have so much in my life to be thankful for. 

Wednesday evening I get home late as usual.  I pick up my children and take them home.  After getting them settled into bed  I lay down and fall asleep probably within seconds from exhaustion.  I will never forget the time.  It was 2:06 am and my phone rings.  Its a phone call from Penn.  By now I know if a 215 number shows up on my phone its someone calling from the nurses stations.  If its a 267 number its a doctor calling from their cell phone.  Its a 267 number calling.  In the matter of just moments, I have a million scenarios go thru my head.  I am TERRIFIED to answer the phone.  I pick up and its Pharon’s doctor.  Pharon has had another stroke.  He is seizing again.  I needed to consent to another test and the doctor told me I could sign the paperwork when I got there.  I had been back in Dover for less than 6 hours and it was time to go up again.  Not knowing how long I would be up there, I took a quick shower and grabbed extra clothes.  I pack the kids bag up and take them out to the cold car one at a time while they are asleep.  I call Becca on my way to let her know I was coming with the kids.  Before 3 am I am back on my way to Philly.  Leaving my children again.  On Thanksgiving.  Not knowing what I was walking into.

As I drive up to Philadelphia this time it was mostly in silence.  Silence and tears.  This is it.  I am losing him on Thanksgiving.  What do I have to be thankful for now?! It was almost instantly that I became ashamed of even having that thought even cross my mind.  I had just dropped off two beautiful and healthy children to my family. I could stop there and it would be more than enough to be thankful for. I was driving a car that was amazing on gas mileage.  If I didn’t have this car and had to drive our truck there is no way I would be able to make all of these trips. I have an amazing support system from my church families, work families and even strangers.

I get to Penn and make the dreaded walk across the hospital and the closer I get the more anxious I get. What am I going to walk into? My love is laying there. Still in a coma. He won’t respond. He won’t open his eyes. He won’t move. My forever isn’t here anymore. It’s just his body now.

Within hours my family is messaging me and wanting to cancel dinner. No. This isn’t an option for me. I need to be with them. I don’t care if we are sitting eating dry cereal out of bags for thanksgiving. I need to be around them. In the afternoon I make the long trip from Philadelphia to Greenwood. The house is busy with noise and the kids are running around making more noise than a lot of people can handle. The sound soothes me. I love our chaotic family dinners. At any given time there are 11 children under the age of 16 running around and giggling. Once you add the adults we have close to 30 people in one place. It’s a safe place for me. I can be me. I can cry. I can talk. I can sit in silence. I don’t have to explain anything. I can go thru any and every emotion and not feel self conscious about it. I am with my “ryde or die gang.” I slip in and out of consciousness while sitting on the couch and wake up to the sounds of the people I love the most. The sound bring me more comfort than I can put into words.

My husband is over a hundred miles away from me, fighting for his life but I remain thankful. I am with my family who is fighting for me. Fighting for my family.

I am blessed in the midst of my storm

 

When I first posted this picture it was a picture of the last time my children had talked to their daddy.  Now its also a picture of the last time my children saw their daddy alive.

When Pharon and I decided to start a family we were just like many couples and had big plans.  We both wanted more for our children than what we had growing up.  Every parent wants that for their children.  We wanted them to have active parents and more than anything we wanted their childhoods to be filled with great memories instead of heartache.  Pharon and I both had some obstacles growing up and we were determined to not let our children have the same ones.  For me it has always been, be home, well and present and not be so familiar with hospitals.  For Pharon it was to be a present, loving and active father.  Neither of us held ill feelings about how we grew up.  We both knew our parents did the best they could but now it was our turn to do the best that we could.

Making the decision to let the father of my children go gave me physical pain in my body.  I knew we were at the point that if we continued treatment it was going to cross into it being cruel and selfish act on our part.  I knew that the best case scenario if everything went perfect was still going to leave my husband in a state that would be torture for him.  But my kids need their daddy.  But they need their daddy to KNOW who they are.  But Deshawn won’t have any memories with him. But Brianna will be DEVASTATED if she talks to Daddy and he doesn’t answer her.  My mind went in circles for days.  I knew the time to think about alternative measures was coming.

Now here we are, almost 3 months later, and Brianna is just now talking to me about Daddy.  Before she would have random conversations with everyone else but me.  If I asked her if she missed daddy she would say “No, I am happy”.  I made sure to tell her it was ok to miss daddy because I miss daddy all the time.  She would quickly change the subject and move on about her day.

A week ago today, Brianna came into the kitchen and made a comment to me that almost brought me to my knees.  “Mommy, if daddy stays in heaven and doesn’t come home to take care of me I won’t be his best girl anymore”.  I literally almost threw up.  Tears came instantaneously and I grabbed her.    Lord, My girl is hurting and I don’t know how to fix this.  What have I done.  I reassured her that she will always be Daddy’s best girl.  I reminded her that daddy still loves her even though he is living in heaven with Jesus.  She then tells me that she doesn’t want daddy to stay in heaven with Jesus and she wants him to come home now and take care of her.  The blessing in the midst of this whole mess is that she KNOWS her daddy took care of her.  She has loving memories of her Daddy being her protector.  She is only four years old and I know she doesn’t fully comprehend death yet.  We have talked a lot about how daddy died.  Daddy’s brain broke and that is why he couldn’t talk to you anymore.  Daddy’s heart stopped working.  So Jesus decided it was best to take daddy to live with him so Daddy would feel better.  Its all the truth but more on her level.  Most of the time she accepts those answers but I am not sure really how much she understands.  The one thing I am sure of is that my precious girl is hurting.  I would give up anything and everything to take that hurt away for her.  I am terrified of her missing things that other girls will have with their fathers.  I am scared of her first dance, her first date, her graduating, her wedding.

I am scared of her blaming me.

I also have this little man to raise.  I have to find that balance between soft and hard if that makes sense.  Then there is the practical every day stuff that I have no idea how to teach a boy.  How to pee standing up. Not like I experience doing that.  Sports…if its baseball we are good but I don’t know how to play any other sports.  I need Deshawn to feel connected to his Daddy.  He doesn’t have memories to hold onto.  When he gets Brianna’s age and I talk to him about Daddy it will be more like a story than something he can relate to.  Lord, Pharon was going to teach Deshawn how to be a strong man.  I can’t do that. 

I am scared of my children lashing out because they are angry that they don’t have their daddy.  I am scared of the pain they will feel when they see other dads doing stuff with their kids.  I am scared that I won’t be able to provide for them as well as Pharon and I had planned.

I am Fearless, because God says I am, but I still get scared.

166 miles round trip. 3+ hours in the car for 1 day. I find out very quickly that if I am not in the city before 7 am then traffic can add 30-45 minutes to the morning commute. At first I park in the $5 parking garage that has the free shuttle but I find that it adds almost an hour to my day because you have to wait for the shuttle and then it sometimes get stuck in traffic. For $10 I can park in the parking garage attached to the hospital. When you are spending 14-16 hours a day away from your 6 month old and 4 year old that extra hour is precious. My babies need me too. Dividing my time between my dying husband and my children is heart wrenching.

The time I spend in the car is when I am alone with my feelings. I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing me cry or being at a loss for what to say to me. Oh if Stella the Sonata could talk. I play YouTube videos of praise and worship songs across the Bluetooth to help calm my nerves. Other days I am blasting DMX, Biggie and Tupac cause sometimes I just need the rawness and bass of their music to help me find my “screw it, I got this” attitude. Just being honest here.

Before I started writing this entry I had to go back and read the updates I had posted on Facebook to help me remember what happened and when. The first two weeks……geez. Everyone comments on how strong I was and all I can tell you is that I must have been on auto pilot those first two weeks. I know I was in shock. I remember coming home from Philadelphia the first time and just sitting in my living room silent for what seemed like hours. My husband had a stroke! WHY is this happening??!! What does the future hold?? Our plans to grow old together may not work out how we planned. Then out of no where I got scared to be in my house by myself. I have never been scared to be anywhere by myself. Now all of a sudden I get scared?!! I don’t have my protector. I lost my covering. Man I wish my brother lived closer. Well I know if I need help quickly Adam, David or Enzo will come until Johnny can get here. Then a whole new fear lurks into my head. What if when he wakes up he doesn’t remember me still and doesn’t want me or isn’t attracted to me or has no emotional connection to me or the kids?! These are the kinds of thoughts that started to bombard my mind.

In the midst of a million thoughts and fears going thru my head my precious girl is missing her daddy. She doesn’t understand why she can’t go into the hospital to see him. She doesn’t understand why we can’t put daddy on the phone and see him. Every morning I would take my children to my aunt and cousins house. To get there you can see Kent General about 2 blocks away. Every day she would ask if we could go see daddy when she saw the building. My four year old knows the building. One of my biggest fears has come true. My child is too familiar with the hospital.

My one comfort in having to leave my children so much is that they are with my aunt and cousins. I know that they are getting just as much love as if I was there. I don’t have to worry for one minute about their safety or well being. The trust I have in my family with my children extends to the point that during this time I put in writing to Brianna’s school that my brother, aunt, any of my cousins or spouses could make any decision including medical if I was not available. I love my family more than I can ever put into words. They are another reason I was able to make it from day to day.

Within the first 2 weeks we find out that Pharon actually had 10 strokes and 3 aneurysms. One was in the area of his brain that controls his vision. He won’t be able to see our babies. Lord I can’t wrap my brain around this. It was at this point that I started to grieve the loss of my husband. I lost my husband. His body is here but the man I fell in love with and married is gone. My children’s father is gone. Oh my God Deshawn isn’t old enough to have any memories of his daddy. The daddy he may know isn’t who he was. By week 3 he has had 3 more strokes and another aneurysm. There was a week that I would get home and have to turn back around and go right back up because something else happened. This happened 4 days in a row. Two trips to philly a day for 4 days. He recognized me one last time. Now I know it was my voice he recognized but he couldn’t see my whole face. He couldn’t get my name out but when asked if I was his wife he said yes. It was the first time I had ever video taped him and I got him saying he knew me.

Then the bottom fell out again. This is when I had to decide how I was going to look at this going forward. There wasn’t a time that I lost faith in God’s ability to heal Pharon. I knew that if God wanted to and it was His will that Pharon could be healed and he could sit right up out of that bed and walk out of the hospital. But I had to accept the fact that Gods healing may not come in the form that I would prefer and I have to try and accept that. Pharons healing may not happen on this earth. That is a huge, jagged pill to swallow.

I have zero control in my life at this point. I can’t get my husband better. I can’t make my little girl feel better. I struggle daily on where I should be as a wife and a mother. Everything I hear is bad news. I can’t get thru the night without a call from a nurse or doctor telling me something else has happened. Something clicked in my head as I was driving up one day. Ok I have all this bad stuff happening but what good is happening. I have a car that is in tip top working order and wonderful on gas. I have an amazing family that is my backbone right now. My church families have rallied around me and covered me in prayer and blessed me with other gifts. Pharons bosses made sure I had the means to get gas, food etc the same day we decided to send him to Penn. My bosses blessed me with means to get up and down the road. Strangers and other friends have given to help offset the loss of income. Within a week of me starting to post updates over 10.9 THOUSAND different people had read updates on Pharon. Over 15.5 THOUSAND had either liked, commented or shared the posts. How can so many people care about us? I literally can not wrap my brain around it. By now anxiety has set in. During the bad stuff and when good things happen. I mentally can’t handle either…..