I Love You More

When I left my friend Louis yesterday my heart ached, I knew he was beginning his  transition.
This morning his friend James sent Rick a text, Louis had died.  I felt it in my heart when I awoke today, I knew that yesterday was the last time I would see him in this life.

It is hard to explain grief because it is different with each loss.  In many ways our friendship with Louis was so different than with other friends.  We met just a few short years ago under tough circumstances, both undergoing treatments in an infusion room.  He had beat cancer several times in his life.  He was a survivor in every sense of the word.

When we met, it was as though we had known each other our entire lives.  We bonded sitting in those big green chairs while chemicals filled our veins.  There was a camaraderie in that room.  Several of us sat and became friends, encouraging each other, praying for each other and grieving as our friends passed.

Louis and I were the last of the group.  We spoke to each other almost daily.  He and his nephew Steve and friend Bert came to our house, shared meals with us and our families.  This past Thanksgiving as Louis and Bert left the house that evening I had a sinking feeling it might be the last holiday we spent together.  Louis was getting frail.

Christmas came, we celebrated with a conversation on the phone.  After the first of the year, hospital visits became a common occurrence for Louis.  We would drop by the hospital,  talk on the phone, we both knew in our hearts time was short.  A few weeks ago, he was moved to a hospice care center.
We would visit and hope for the best.  Some days he was unresponsive, others  weak, yet so happy to see us.

A couple of weeks ago, we dropped by and he was sitting up in the bed.  Eating a meal, laughing, visiting with family and friends, it was a day I will never forget.  As we got ready to leave, he told me he was going home next week.  His nephew Steve walked us to the door and out into the hall, Steve, Rick and I knew that by some grace we had been given a gift.

The the past two visits it was obvious that day had been a gift.  Louis was losing weight, becoming so weak and then yesterday, I knew what was next.  No matter how much you prepare yourself for someone's death, there is no preparation.  That loss hits hard and heavy.  Loss is loss, losing those you love is a transformation that is the most difficult.  I hear his voice in my head, I miss his hugs, his calls, his laughter and his kindness.  We ended each call and visit with me saying I love you, and then he would always say, "I love you more."

The picture tonight is one at his house.  He was a great cook.  He loved having friends over for lunch and dinner.  Tonight, I would love to have one more meal together, to hear him say one more time, "I Love You More."