Tidying up...

Although I had heard of hospices, I didn’t know what they actually did until my Joe was sent to one. I really thought it was some kind of hospital but geared towards end of life. You can imagine my surprise, therefore, when I found out that they don’t attempt any cures but simply make things easier for their patients. They certainly did that for Joe and me, as I was to find out.

The view from Joe's window

Under normal circumstances he would have loved his room. It was private, nicely decorated, with separate shower and toilet in a well fitted room adjoining his bedroom. An enormous television and radio on the wall, There were four easy lounge chairs and a coffee table. A door led to a small private patio overlooking the gardens where patient and visitors could sit out on a fine day. Honestly, it was more like a hotel room.

One day I was approached by two members of the nursing staff. After introducing themselves one of them asked ‘Would you like a massage?’ What? Seeing my hesitation, I was told that I could just have my shoulders massaged if I didn’t want the whole programme. Naturally I asked ‘Why me?’ to which they explained that they had found that the carers needed as much attention as the patients. Actually the invitation came too late as Joe died the following day. I didn’t get the massage but I got plenty of loving attention and help as well as a pack of tissues for the tears.

So now, just over a week after the funeral I am busy sorting out the house. Joe, bless him, had a tidy mind and that’s where his tidiness stayed. It has given me some sort of pleasure to strip his office room of stuff he accumulated over the years. Client files (remember he was an accountant) some of which dated back to the early 2000s. Fortunately I’ve got a good solicitor! 

Years ago I bought Joe a lovely desk on which he could work. He loved it. He loved it so much he kept it covered, not as you might think with a cloth – no he used bits of paper, envelopes, folders, letters, special account paper, envelopes, scraps of paper, pens and pencils, rulers and rubbers, and a magnetic paperclip holder. There were pots and cartons and dishes holding small things, like caps of biros (the pens themselves long since lost or worn out), rubber bands, erasers, charity badges, corks from medicine bottles, the odd gift card or two, some marbles, oh and the bottom part of a set of false teeth. Don’t ask! Yet he never lost anything. He knew where everything was – even the teeth – but many’s the time if I asked him to get a cup out of the cupboard he would ask which cupboard!

I have heard that brilliant brains have untidy minds. I never could work that one out but I guess there’s some logic somewhere.

You should see his room now. I have rehoused everything so that I know where it all is and it looks TIDY. Now that I can see the desk I’ve quite taken quite a fancy to it. It would be ideal to do my colouring on. If I promise not to mess it up with ink from fibre pens perhaps he wouldn’t mind me taking over. After all, if there was a speck of colour somewhere I could always cover it with bits of paper.  Couldn't I?

The Finale

First of all I must thank all my blogging friends for your comments in recent weeks. Even though close to tears I appreciated that you took the time to leave messages.

I have been away too long and now I’m wondering what to write on the blog. It has to be about Joe, of course, and I know it will be difficult. I think I’ll start at the beginning ...

At the end of Joe’s terrible illness, when the cancer spread and threatened his life, he was transferred from hospital to a hospice. He had been admitted to hospital two days before Christmas, on our 38^th wedding anniversary. At that time he was still able to communicate and he pleaded with us to carry on with the Christmas arrangements. Months earlier he had ordered and paid for the family’s usual slap up meal at our favourite hotel so following his wishes we dined out - rather sombrely - and then went to see him in the hospital. There was a slight deterioration, not too bad but bad enough for him to show no interest in his Christmas gifts. He was in the hospital for eight days before being moved to the hospice. And that was where he died.  Rosanne and I had been with him all day before leaving to come home. It was a half-hour drive but one we wished we hadn’t made. As we walked through the front door the phone rang, the caller asking us how quickly we could go back. He only had 5 to 10 minutes left. We left immediately but got there too late. Joe had gone.

How did we cope? I would say we coped with extreme difficulty. Tears well up when I think of that time. But we had to move on, or sink.

As you know there is a lot to do when death strikes. Arrangements to make, people to tell, all the while trying to live and eat and sleep as well as shed even more tears.  I tried to keep the tears private, though, rather than upset others.

But let me tell you about the funeral, which many have described as wonderful. When I made my funeral plan, something like three years ago, I had been impressed by the firm of undertakers that took me through the plan. Naturally, Rosanne and I went back to them. They did a wonderful job and I know Joe would have approved.

The undertaking company is a family affair, brother and sister known as Daniel and Sarah. Both are well trained and have the knack of putting folk at ease. They don’t push, they suggest. And you can’t fault their suggestions. Right from the start they took over, ordered and arranged everything, always consulting us first. Sarah would ring just to see how I was, all the time offering help if needed. She knew I was alone, you see, Rosanne having her own house to stay in when over here from Australia.

On the day of the funeral we were treated like royalty, chauffeur driven and red carpet! But the service was straightforward. We had tried to keep it simple, well known hymns that got people singing, and an interesting eulogy that told people more about Joe than they knew. We had emphasised his love of football, from his playing days to the less energetic interest of watching his team play and in this regard we had requested that people wore a splash of red – his team’s colour. And they did... it was lovely and genuinely approved of by the priest. There was a surprise ending to the service, though. The music chosen to end was the signature tune of ‘Match of the Day’ which produced smiles and tapping feet as the congregation sat and listened. Many people remarked on our choice of music and they all said that Joe would have approved.

There were people there I didn’t know and it was interesting to hear how the word had spread to the business world which in turn brought people to pay their respects. The small crematorium was packed with, I was later told, 70 people, many of whom came back to the house for refreshments.

In recent weeks I learned more about Joe than I knew. What I didn’t realise was how loved he was by people from all walks of life. Many referred to him as a great man with a terrific sense of humour and one who would talk to anyone. They were SO right. My Joe wouldn’t harm a fly let alone a human being, and if he knew someone had a problem he would do everything in his power to assist. Yes, he was a man of simple tastes but with a heart of gold. Is it any wonder everyone loved him?

Yesterday, whilst sorting out his papers I found a folder full of cards and letters. Inside was an envelope full of letters written by me before we were married. He never threw them away. There was also a poem I wrote when he was going through a bad patch. It wasn’t a great poem but it was my first and he must have liked it to have kept it so long.

LEAN ON ME

If I could reach out and pluck stars from the sky

I would feel the desire to plant one in each eye

Of the one that I care for, the one who deserves more

From one who is willing to try

To make life richer and easier to bear

Let me be the one who is willing to share

In your ups and your downs,

Your smile and your frowns,

Let me be the one to care.

Don’t be afraid, there are no schemes

Just a heartfelt desire to be part of your dreams

Of a life full of promise and hope,

Knowing that one day you’ll cope

And your path will be filled with new themes.

These are the words of a very true friend,

Take love and some laughter and make them blend,

a recipe which in time creates peace of mind.

I make you a promise that eventually you’ll find

If you use my strength you’ll succeed in the end.

JOE, MY HERO

REST IN PEACE, JOE
Yes, my husband passed away on the 8th day after moving to a hospice. He is no longer in pain and for that I am grateful. Watching him suffer was awful. I coped, after a fashion, but only because daughter, Rosanne, was there with me. She arrived back in the UK just in time. Another day and it would have been too late. The funeral will be on 3rd February so I have plenty of time to pray to the good Lord and ask him to take care of my man's soul. 
Today I received some thoughts from Rosanne's husband in Australia. I would like to share them with you. His words will be included in the Order of Service on the day of the funeral. I just know everyone will smile when they read them and maybe, like me, they will shed a few tears. 
Everyone loved my Joe and they are now telling me how much. Yes, he was a great guy and I am so pleased I spent the last 38 years with him. 

MEMORIES OF JOE ... from FRANK MILETO (Son-in-Law)

Joe’s visits to Australia

I remember ...

My son, Hadley, coming in and shouting “You have to come outside and see Joe.”

Not knowing what to expect I ran outside and watched Joe balancing the soccer ball on his foot and doing other tricks. Enjoyment for me and my boys

Arriving home from work and Joe asking if I wanted a drink. I’m thinking beer or cordial but learnt fairly quickly when he came back with a cup of tea. Priceless!

Taking him to our famous steam engine Puffing Billy for a trip around the Dandenongs with Rosanne and my sons. Two days later I got home from work and asked Joe “what did you do today” he responded I went to Puffing Billy again. I realised his love for Steam Engine Trains was real.

At Mini railway in Eltham, he was like a kid in a candy shop especially when he was invited into the workshop.

Everything for Joe was “Brill”

Rosanne and I took him to a friend’s place on a 40 acre property, 3 hours outside Melbourne. When it was dark I took him at the front of the property to look at the stars where there was no artificial light around. The look on his face when he looked up nearly bought a tear to my eye. It was a beautiful moment for both of us. We felt that we could reach up and touch the myriad of stars up in the sky. Moment was confirmed in Joe’s log as his favourite moment on that year’s trip to OZ.

Visiting an upmarket Hotel at Southbank with Joe and Rosanne. The Menu had a great range to pick from. Without missing a beat Joe asked for fish and chips which gave me a chuckle because that’s all he ever ordered whenever we went out.

Joe walked our dog Bonnie every day and they became best mates. When he would go back to the UK I would occasionally take her for a walk around the block and be stopped by people recognising Bonnie who would ask me “How’s Joe”. He spent approx. 4 Months in 3 trips to Ferny Creek and because of his pleasant nature more people knew him than me. That doesn’t mean I am a miserable Git, it just means Joe walked Bonnie more than I did and probably closer to the truth he would talk to anyone.

There are many more stories of the time he came to Australia but his life was full and this was a small part.

Loved by his family and respected and loved by my immediate family as well.

Great man and I will miss him and the banter we would have about the soccer. Take your place in heaven, Joe. A giant amongst men and you are the true meaning of a gentleman. Love you to the day I die (hopefully long way to go for me).

The reason why there are gaps in posts

Some will have guessed why I have been absent so for those who don't know I have to tell you that my Joe was admitted to hospital two days before Christmas. It was our wedding anniversary but he didn't realise that. Poor lad didn't have much of a Christmas but then neither did his family and friends. We were all very tearful.  The thing is, the cancer has spread which has brought about many side effects that are equally severe. He was in awful pain and still is but painkillers do their best to ease things for him. The worst news is that nothing can be done. Head consultants have had to admit that they have done all they can and now it is up to the Lord.  I am at the hospital every day where he has a huge audience of nurses and doctors - all of whom seem to love him. I too have been honoured with free dinners and umpteen cups of tea... and some people moan about hospital treatment! Actually I have done better than Joe because he has no appetite and refuses liquid most of the time. This is worrying because he needs fluids but what can you do when lips are locked? Fortunately there are such things as saline drips! Family and friends are wonderful, and surprisingly Joe's clients (he audits their accounts, or rather he did!) have rallied round. Some have visited the hospital and others phone regularly to check on his condition.  Joe is Roman Catholic and the priest visits nearly every day. Last rites were given early because the Priest thought it better not to wait. Today he received last sacraments which I found very moving. It is awfully difficult to stem the emotion at such times but somehow I manage it. Daughter Rosanne says I am a strong person. Am I? It doesn't feel like it, that's for sure.  I hope the news doesn't upset anyone, but I had to explain my absence and give a reason for future gaps in posts. I love you all. God bless.