Just One More Time

From Gwen, Aeden, & Irene
Tom took his last breath this morning, June 20, at 3:39 surrounded by the three of us and an amazing amount of love. We cried, laughed, prayed, embraced, hummed "How Can I Keep From Singing" and sang "The Garden Song." We lit a candle.A new journey has begun for all four of us.

I responded to a silent request and showed up at the house on Tuesday, the 18th. I walked into that house, not really knowing what to expect. I've visited "dying" homes and hospital rooms before but this one was really different. It smelled better, it was full of light and loaded, floor to ceiling, with love. So much love. It was comforting. I like to think that when he took that last shallow breath this morning, it was a happy, content one. Godspeed my friend, and thank you so much for sharing...


Just one more time he said to see the sky
One more time to smell your hair
Just one more time to tell you I love you
One more time, I want to be there.

It happened so suddenly
It seemed so unreal
This thing, it is fatal
How on earth will we heal?

This is how I’m getting by
This is how I’m getting through
Every day, every way, I cherish memories of you

Just one more time, he said, to see the sky
One more time to smell your hair
Just one more time to tell you I love you
One more time, I want to be there.

Singing songs, in a circle
Greeting friends, far and wide
Barbequing in the backyard
Even when it’s raining outside

This is how I’m getting by
This is how I’m getting through
Every day, every way, I cherish memories of you

Just one more time, he said, to see the sky
One more time to smell your hair
Just one more time to tell you I love you
One more time, I want to be there.

So many children you have known
So many now are fully grown
They will take you songs, the word you’ve penned
And future voices will forever blend

This is how I’m getting by
This is how I’m getting through
Every day, every way, I cherish memories of you

Just one more time, he said, to see the sky
One more time to smell your hair
Just one more time to tell you I love you
One more time, I will be there.
c-Marla Bronstein 2008

Mr Tom Hunter

http://tomhunterblog.blogspot.com/





So here's the weird thing...Tom is still alive, very much so, well, less so than he has been in the past 60+ years, but alive nevertheless, but he has a fatal brain disease.

Fatal.

I fucking hate that word.

Now, realistically, I know we all are destined to die. Yes, even you and me. Someday.

But somehow, I have always associated death with old people, like my grandparents. My grandfather died when he was 60, and both my mom's parents died in their 60's. But I was much younger than I am now. The difference between my age and theirs when they died was 45-60 years...so in my mind, by today's standards, people are not due to die until they are 95-120 years old.

I know I need to go see him, to talk to him, to hold his hand and tell him how much the last 15 years of my life have been so enhanced since I have had him in my life.

I don't want to see him like this. It's not that I'm afraid. I've seen many people closing in on their final days. I know I know what to do, and how to act. Usually.


I just don't think I can go to HIS house and be strong and supportive this time. Oh, I'm good at writing on his blog. I've written a few times...I leave amusing anecdotes, meaningful comments, you know, stuff that would make him feel good.

I think about all the things that remind me of him. I still hear him playing tennis across the street mid-afternoon, laughing when he misses a shot. (He doesn't have to laugh very much.) Memorial Day Weekend. Labor Day Weekend. Folk Music. Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits. Letting Gwen's Cancer out of the bag. Great conversations about religion, family, children, life's passions.

It's killing part of me too.

I just imagine walking into the house, seeing him sitting, curled up in a chair, surrounded by his family and friends, and me breaking into hysterics and needing a xanax to calm down.

Tom is an amazing man, and he will ALWAYS be an amazing spirit. I wish I had his strength.

McKenzie 1987-2008

Even if you didn't know McKenzie, you'd know her sound.

Strong.

Guttural.

"Feed Me, Pet Me" she was saying...

Not anymore.

She has been sick for the past few weeks, and at 4am, she took her last breath. My first husband and I were with her, and as I stroked her back, she slipped away. The kids are (understandably) upset and confused as to what to do next.


Even if you are not a cat person, I know you will understand the sense of loss we all, especially Big Sister and Little Brother, feel today.