Sounds of Silence

It will be four weeks on Saturday. How can that be? It seems like a moment. The numbness of the first week or so has given way to immense sadness. I miss Maggie. I have dreams in which I am searching for her and cannot find her. I feel sad all the time. Not crying and weeping, just sad.

I don't feel like I've accomplished much of anything in those 4 weeks. Oh, I've been plenty busy, but I couldn't really tell you what I've done. There are so so so many things that have to be done. I can think of about 10 ongoing projects that are all related to Maggie. I've started about 5 of them, but have completed zero.

There are so many supplies and equipment to deal with. I've been trying to find homes for a lot of stuff. If you know of anyone who needs medical equipment or supplies, let me know. There is the van, the walker, the bed, and so much more. I have ideas for some and will sell some other things, but I really do not want to throw stuff away. I did toss anything that had been used, but I have boxes and boxes of sterile supplies.  We have already donated some stuff to a non profit that has a clinic in Central America, but they couldn't use the more specialized things. In an excellent reminder of how lucky we are, the woman said to me,

"we are mostly sewing up machete wounds, we can't use the trach stuff.

 In fact, I'm not sure anyone in the entire country even has a trach."  

I can assure you there are plenty of people in any country who may need a trach, but without the ability to care for the patients, they don't get it and simply don't survive.

Maggie never would have had a chance if she wasn't born so close to excellent medical care. She would not have survived 24 hours in that Central American country or many others in the world. She would not have survived in many parts of the United States.   But she was lucky and she was born in a major city with a level three medical center close by. I can't imagine anyone reading this needs to be reminded, but I'm going to do it anyway. Maggie didn't just survive. She thrived.For close to 20 years, she laughed, she loved, she learned, she ruled the roost. She was the heart and soul of this family and she is missed every minute.

It is so so quiet in this house without her. I can hear the clock ticking and a dog barking somewhere in the neighbors back yard. The other day I listened to church bells from St. Ignatius. I could never hear those things because of the cacophony of sound to which we had grown accustomed. But now the suction machine isn't going, the nurse isn't laughing with Maggie, Maggie isn't bossing us around and the Maggie Mix isn't playing.

The silence is deafening.