Hospice, fear, and insecurity

“I’ll be home in a few days”

“I’ll be home Wednesday, I promise”

“I’m booking a flight today. I’ll be home on Friday. I’m serious, I’m holding my ground this time.”

All of this has been said by my husband the past few days. and every single time, I responded with “sure. Okay”. Not once believing him, and correct not to.

I have a lot of feelings about what’s going on right now. And I’m trying to keep empathy at the forefront.

But friends, my husband has been out of work for over a MONTH now. I think about 5 weeks.

And we are out of money. Straight up. 100%. Everything that’s been stockpiled has been tapped into.

So, even just financially speaking? We’re completely absolutely fucked, and I’m scared.

The bad news that we got a few days ago was that…we learned that his dad recently canceled his life insurance policy. Of which we stood to inherit 40%. He was retired military…so it would’ve been a good few hundred thousand.

A good few hundred thousand.

That we’ve been counting on in the terms of *at some point, this will happen and we’ll FINALLY be able to get ahead in life, get out of my parents house, and get into our own place*.

I struggle with finding the correct verbiage to explain the situation vs sounding like an cold hearted asshole, so let me use more words.

You never want or hope or are eager for someone to die. Ever. Point blank. You’re just not. And that is certainly the case for us. We are none of those things. However, my husband has known for quite some time now, and has the paperwork to prove it, that “in the event of my death, you stand to inherit xyz”.

So, while of course you NEVER hope or wish for this event, you do still…know it’s there? At the end? Does that make sense? It’s just a hard thing to phrase. Please understand what I’m trying to say.

Financially speaking, we’re absolutely, completely fucked. And it really sucks knowing that a life insurance policy was recently cancelled because of the monthly payments (which, had we known, we would have covered. Or helped in some way).

Anyway, my point is that my husband is gone. He’s been down taking care of his dad for a while now.

Yesterday, at his dads radiation treatment for the newly active throat cancer, the doctor told them that he’s recommending hospice. His liver cancer, which he’s had for years now, has grown from 10-15cm in a very short amount of time. And is now beginning to become symptomatic, in terms of organ and body failure.

Despite this coming as a shock to none of the rest of us, my husband and his dad are both shocked. It’s hard to prepare someone that something bad is going to happen…while still trying to also be gentle with their feelings.

So, that’s where we stand. He obviously won’t be coming home any time soon.

It was…less of an urgent situation when my husband was down there taking care of him and not working when we thought that, in the end, when it came time for the worst case scenario, there’d be something for us financially to help cover these lost wages.

But that is not the case any longer.

Aside from my own personal feelings of I’m lonely, life is hard, and I miss him….I can get past that. Obviously. I have to.

But I’m a stay at home mom to 3 special needs children. And my husband is the sole income that we have. So…to be with nothing for over a month now has been…well, it’s completely tapped us dry. The nest egg is gone. Completely.

I can’t tell him to come home, he needs to make that choice in his own, and I guess when he’s ready…he will.

But what the actual fuck am I supposed to do? I’ve never been financially scared. I’ve always said it’ll work out, it’ll be fine, whatever. But this time? It’s different.

Yes. I’m fucking lonely. And this sucks so god damn much.

For every single thing that I’m going through emotionally…man. I just don’t know. I don’t fucking know.

My husband has made it clear that he feels badly enough about our financial situation, and the way that things have changed, that he’s strongly contemplating and considering killing himself “so I get the life insurance money from him and can finally get ahead in life”.

I can’t even tell you how sick that thought actually makes me. He’s worth so much more than any of that, and he’s obviously, completely irreplaceable. I wish he knew that he was more important than any of that. Than anything. I tell him all the time, but that doesn’t mean he knows. Just like when people tell me things…that doesn’t mean I know.

I’m out of words. Things are just…they’re hard right now. And there’s no right path. There’s no right answer.

Here’s a video of my most adorable baby “clapping”. We’ve been working on it for a long time, and yesterday was the first day that he’s attempted it. (We’re at PT, and my 4 year old is screaming “mommy” in the background 😂)