It’s been five weeks since I’ve posted anything on this blog. Five weeks of silence on my part. It’s not as if there’s been nothing to write about. In fact, in those five weeks of silence there’s been constant change: constant physical deterioration in Pam’s life and constantly mounting grief in my own. If you really want to know, I’ve had something to say, something important to say each and every day of the last five weeks. I really wanted to keep you all abreast of the developments but I’ve said nothing at all. Not a word. Silence.
It’s just been too hard for me.
Let me start by saying this: Pamela Vitale Bradford is my hero. She’s always been my hero but I’ve never known, until now, what a tremendous hero she is. Pam has suffered indignity upon indignity — especially in recent days — and she’s done it with dignity. She has ten billion legitimate excuses to complain about the raw deal life has dealt her; but she’s too busy thinking about other people, too busy thinking about Angelique and me, to take stock of her own troubles.
People say, “Paul, how are you doing?” I always answer the same way. I’m sad, sad, sad, sad, sad. It makes me sad to contemplate the fact that my dear wife wakes up every morning completely unable to move. She can’t even roll over in bed without help. Her big excursion each day — and it takes ever so much out of her — is to get lifted from the hospital bed that’s been installed in our dining room into the sit-to-stand reclining chair we recently purchased when it became impossible for her to lift herself out of a sitting position.
Did I tell you I feel sad? Sadness preys upon me, now, twenty-four/seven. I’m not sad for myself. What have I got to be sad about? All I do is spend a few hours in the morning with Pam and then I wake my daughter up. When she gets up, I waltz off to Starbucks. Then to Mass. Then to work. I can do everything that anyone can do and I don’t have to return to my broken wife until evening comes.
I have it easy!! Pam can’t even scratch her nose. God knows she can’t get away from it for a few hours the way that I do. Had anyone ever told you that cancer sucks?? Well, it does!
There’s so much to tell you. Too much. I’ve watched a thousand things happen and I haven’t noted any of them for you. If I were the kind of man who had the fortitude to chronicle the last month of Pam’s life I’d be a different man entirely. But I’m not. I’m just me; and, these days, I just don’t have it in me to be organized and creative. I’m just sad. Did I tell you that already? I’m just so very, very sad….