posted on Dec, 20 2017 @ 11:41 PM
Don Henley’s words in that song struck a cord with my Beloved and I the first time we heard it. Upon hearing:
“Oh, and it's sweet to know
The wisdom that living brings
Since I got a telegram from the god of simple things”
We smiled at each other and said in unison, “October 1985!”
Since the night a kid in a Blazer with his right hand turn signal blinking turned left into the path of my Beloved’s motorcycle, we’ve been very
aware of the tenuous nature of life and have taken that telegram seriously. He survived the ruptured aorta, concussion, compound fracture of the
thigh, broken pelvis, ribs and wrist.
He had been riding motorcycles for 30 years without a major crash. Over the next eight years and countless surgeries, he recovered his ability to walk
with only the aid of a cane. Two years after that he threw away the cane.
On Thanksgiving we got a second telegram from the god of simple things. It came in the form of a massive brain bleed that began spontaneously in the
basal ganglia. The brain scan made about 20 minutes after the onset of his symptoms showed a terrible sight. The one made an hour later, after his
transfer to a stroke center, showed that there would be no good outcome of this. The neurologist told me that he would not survive the night due to
uncontrolled blood pressure and bleeding. He was on Plavix so surgery was not an option.
He survived the night and by Saturday morning he was sitting up in bed cracking jokes with the ICU staff. I heard the word “miracle” from more
medical staff than I’ve ever heard before. If one looked at his brain scan and then looked at the patient, one would swear that the patient
couldn’t possibly be conscious, much less talking and totally aware of his surroundings. There was indeed a lot of damage but he was my Beloved,
full of love and kindness and apologies for having ruined our Thanksgiving. He also realized that our lives were changed on a monumental basis. He
became a Do Not Resuscitate patient. When he developed pneumonia we contacted hospice and brought him home.
We had four glorious days of love and laughter surrounded by family and friends who came to say goodbye. We read emails and messages from friends all
over the globe, listened to our favorite music and went through slide shows of our travels and adventures. Many of those who had shared those
adventures came to share the love and laughter.
In the early morning hours of December 5, we watched a spectacular thunderstorm move through the area. He remarked, “Maybe I’ll catch a ride on
Thor’s chariot.” A couple of hours later he went to sleep after our usual, “Good night, sweet dreams, I love you.” He caught that ride. And
everything is different now.