The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller(65)

Linda handled this phase several ways. Her denial manifested along with her isolation. There was the time she became frustrated and tried to get to the bathroom on her own, which ended up in one of the worst coughing attacks she’d ever had. It left her weak and completely bedridden for days. Then she refused to dispense her pain medication—when I know she needed it—because her face indicated the pain was nearing intolerable. One night, she spent hours trying to convince Kaeleb and me that she would be fine on her own, that she didn’t need our help, and that we could leave her alone. Needless to say, it didn’t work.
Anger:
This was by far the worst stage for both of us. One day, when Kaeleb came for the weekend to relieve me, I drove about ten miles into the middle of nowhere, stopped the car, and screamed for an hour straight until I had no voice left. I yelled, beat the steering wheel, opened the glove compartment and ripped up every single piece of paper I could find. I held the torn bits in my hands, squeezing the shredded material so tightly, my arms were shaking and my palms were bleeding. I screamed for every single loss I’d experienced—Adley, Mom, Dad—and for the one imminent loss yet to come. When I returned home, my face was flushed and covered in tears. Kaeleb held me until I found my composure and then I headed right back to my post beside Linda’s bed. It happened every weekend for a month straight.
And Linda? Well, Linda handled it by being an *. She was an * to me—yelling when the temperature of her food wasn’t right, or when her bathwater wasn’t warm enough, or when I would accidentally knock the bed when I passed it by. She was an * to the nurse—tearing the I.V.’s out of her arms and chucking them clear across the room, arguing about the medication levels and telling her she was a pitiful excuse for a caregiver. The nurse took it in all stride as though Linda’s yelling was completely normal, which I suppose it was. The only person lucky enough to escape her wrath was Kaeleb because he was “a guest”. At least that’s the answer she gave me when I asked her why. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes, which pissed her off again. It’s a real shame I didn’t bring the swear jar. Linda’s swearing alone would have guaranteed my retirement.
Bargaining:
Asshole Linda eventually transformed into Prayer Warrior Linda. She prayed all the time. All. The. Time. When she woke up in the morning, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, after each nap, and before bed. “God, please” is how they would begin and they would last for at least twenty minutes. I could hear her pleading and I found myself silently begging along with her.
Offering to be a better person, a better friend, to go to church…I pulled out all the stops. But when I began bargaining for my family, that whole process was something that took an immense amount of strength to pull myself out of. Guilt consumed me as I thought about Adley, wishing I had just pulled her from the tub and not left her alone. Grief swallowed me as I thought about my mother, wasting away by choice. Maybe if I just told her that I loved her, instead of staying away from her as I was instructed, she would be alive today.
But my father’s death? Yeah, I needed Palmer’s help for that one. I recounted the story to him and howled my anger, asking him the same questions I was asking myself. Why didn’t I come home sooner? Why the hell did I leave him alone in the first place? I was right there. Why couldn’t I stop him?
Palmer’s response? “It wasn’t your fault, Aubrey. None of those things would have made a difference. That was his choice.” I felt as feeble-minded as a child while he simply repeated those same words as I sobbed on the other line. I refused to believe him and finally hung up the phone, still lost in my grief.
It took me weeks of working through the blame I placed on myself until I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I decided I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. Only when I hit that infamous rock bottom could I finally accept Palmer’s mantra into my heart with no lingering doubts. It was then that I knew it was time to let it go. To finally let them all go. And with them went the guilt and the anguish that I had so long harbored in my heart.
Depression:
But with my family’s release, came depression. Mourning their loss resulted in weeks of constant tears being shed. I had never truly grieved their deaths, I suppose, so I guess I was making up for lost time because it seemed to be a never-ending process. Facing Linda, yet another loss to be had, only compounded my emotions. There was a lot of time spent in Kaeleb’s arms during this phase as he held me and whispered words of encouragement in my ear, telling me how proud he was and how strong I was for going through all of this. But I didn’t feel strong. I felt incredibly weak as I relied on his presence to keep me sane.
Linda, however, just stopped eating. Not in a bitter way, she just flat out had no desire to consume anything. Nor did she have any desire to speak. She just stared vacantly out the window, making no notice of my presence. After a week or so though, she eventually broke down. Together we cried, we wailed, and we sobbed with me on her chest and her arms circling my shoulders. That was one month ago.
Acceptance:
Linda has completely withdrawn into herself again over the last week or so and I’m pretty sure this is what Palmer labeled as her acceptance phase. She’s been quiet and reserved, maybe reflecting on her time here and things she wishes she’d done differently. Or maybe she’s just in a calm state, ready to accept death as it looms, closer with each passing day. I don’t know. All I know is I miss her. I even miss Asshole Linda and the fighting that was associated with her. But I also know she’s exhausted and tired from the long battle. I don’t blame her.