Losing Alex, Part 3

You know, I’ve posted two parts about the day Alex left this earth, and now I’m having second thoughts.  Not because I regret telling any of the story—I don’t, it’s been good for me to get it all out onto paper (um, a screen?)—but because I’m afraid that it is going to be taken the wrong way.  I know Kristi will most likely read this, and I really don’t want her or anyone else to think that I am making a big deal out of my own grief or asking for comfort.  Kristi, being the extraordinarily compassionate person that she is, has already worried that this has been too hard for other people.  So Kristi, my friend-but-practically-sister, please don’t worry about me.  In the end you are the grieving one, you and your family, and I am a friend who is mostly struggling because it breaks my heart that you have to go through this.

Still, I feel like I need to go forward, at least to tell the rest of how that eternally long day went.  So here goes—picking back up shortly after the hospital had given permission for the family to see Alex and say goodbye.


Kristi decided at this point to go and get at least Justin from school so he could say goodbye to his dad also.  I drove her to the school, with our loving bishop following behind.  On the way, Kristi called the school to let them know and to ask if they had a private room where she could tell the kids.  They were also very shocked and supportive and told her they would call Justin out of class, and there would be a conference room she could use.

Justin was already waiting in the office when we got there.  I don’t think he had the slightest clue—but when the bishop and I walked in the door as well as his mom, he must have been worried and puzzled.   While the bishop and Kristi went in the conference room with him, I waited outside by the desk and answered the questions of the administrators.  They were very concerned and stressed over and over that if I learned of any needs at all to let them know so they could help.  Kristi poked her head out and asked them to get William from class as well.  When William arrived, he too was surprised to see me.  I said hi and he smiled at me, and my heart just cracked wide.  I knew his world was going to change in a moment and it would never be the same again.

Both boys wanted to go back to the hospital and see their dad, but Kristi made the decision to leave the twins at school.  They are still very young, and they wouldn’t understand what was really going on (especially Jaxen).  In the car everything was dead silent.  Kristi was still responding to texts, and Justin and William—well, you can imagine.  At the hospital, Kristi took Justin back first and I sat with William and kept him company in the conference room until Kristi was ready to bring him to say goodbye.

While the immediate family had some alone time with Alex’s body, the bishop and Sheri and Terence and I sat in the conference room and talked for a little while.  Sheri had some practical questions—about what help the church could provide, how the funeral would work, what decisions Kristi would need to make.  There was some discussion about how to handle any problems that might crop up with extended family.  All of us wanted the funeral and everything that would come with it to be as easy on Kristi and the kids as possible.

Eventually the time the hospital would allow for any last visiting was up.  Kristi had to make a decision about what funeral home she wanted to use so the hospital could contact them.  And then it was time to go home.  Without Alex.

By this time Nic seemed like he would be able to drive so we switched out.  Kristi and her boys would go home in her car, while I would go home with Terence.  I gave Kristi a tight hug—she HATES hugs so this is probably one of the only times I have ever dared—and then we left her to head home with her boys and have some quiet processing time.

And as Terence and I walked to our car, I turned to him and said, “Can I fall apart now?” He said yes, and I promptly burst into the tears I had been holding back for hours, finally allowing myself to grieve a bit and react to the stress.

I will miss Alex very much.  He was rough around the edges at times (OK, a lot of the time) but he was so willing to go out of his way for you.  It was Alex who taught me how to change the oil in my van (finally ordering me out of the way and doing it himself, while letting me learn by observation).  It was Alex who taught me how to patch the enormous hole in the drywall I created while ripping out the old bathroom vanity (and he mocked me good-naturedly about the hole, too).  It was Alex whose baking I frequently got to sample, and Alex’s sharp humor that kept Terence and I laughing on those rare times when we were able to just sit down and chat with him.

I never knew him before the health crises had taken their toll on his body so I only knew the Alex who had to daily deal with pain and discomfort and the stark realization that he could no longer do the things that had given his life so much meaning before.  And it was hard for him—very hard—but I agree with what the bishop said at his funeral: Alex did the very best he could with what he was given, and our Heavenly Father was pleased to welcome him home.

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