Veterans Wives Group |
Kay's story'My Hero' My late husband (Truck) has always been my hero, even in the early days when we were first married, when both of us were still in the best of health. We lived in New Zealand, and indoor bowls was a winter sport we both enjoyed playing. The two of us were rep players for the District of Southland, and being so competitive we had many trophies and medals to our names, whether it be singles, or team games, South Island or National titles. I never even thought to collect newspaper photos or write-ups of my own, although I very proudly and lovingly cut out everything ever written about Truck, my darling, my hero. When ill health cruelly struck my hero with its painful cancer and he was eventually bedridden, we decided not to be parted until absolutely necessary. So with the assistance of palliative care and a wonderful doctor, who called at our home frequently, it enabled me to care for him myself. Each morning after breakfast I would see to his shower etc, then rush through my housework and lay beside him on the bed to hold his hand and pat his forehead. This was a wonderful time for both of us, to discuss each other's needs. Unfortunately after six months of heavy lifting both my wrists were sprained and I ended up in bed right beside him, with our children and grandchildren running around, spoiling us rotten. It was at this stage Truck was admitted to hospital. I wish with all my heart that I had never let him go, because then I saw him slip downhill so fast. A week to the day after his admission, while his head was cradled in my arm and my other hand was holding his, he suddenly fluttered his eyelids and briefly came out of his coma with the most delightful smile, to whisper he was ready to go now, and thanked me for looking after him, we then expressed our love for each other, and as we kissed, he passed his last breath and softly and peacefully slipped away. Never before in my whole life have I ever felt so honoured and humble to experience such magic from a brave and loving person. Until the day I die, I will always have the most sacred and loving memory in my heart. I have absolutely no fear of my own when the good Lord calls my name, because my hero has taught me to be brave. I only wish there was more I could do. My darling suffered voracious pain for many years after Vietnam, inside and out, he bore it bravely. It is with the greatest of pleasure that I march on ANZAC day and other anniversary days, to hold my head high and proudly wear my husband's medals, while I sense his spirit marching along side of me. Kay Carr |
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