Since Brady passed away, I’ve thought a lot more about my feelings and the feelings of others. I’ve realized that I feel emotions with an intensity that I haven’t experienced before, both happiness and sadness. My ability to feel is amplified. When I think of my ability to experience feelings pre-Brady, I think of a spectrum from 1 to 10. Before, I could only experience happiness to a 7 and sadness to a 3. Now, I experience a full spectrum.
Tag: saying goodbye
The Dream
The day Brady passed away, my parents and sister came over to see me and Jeff. I know that Jeff and I did not want any visitors, but it was one of those times where they said they were coming over and we knew there would be no way to stop it.
I can’t remember much of what was said, as I was in some serious shock, but I do remember my dad telling us a story of a dream he had right after his mom passed away. He and his mom were very close, and my dad was heartbroken when she suddenly passed. Shortly after she’d passed, my grandmother came to him in a dream and embraced him. He asked her to come back and she said she couldn’t and that she was where she needed to be. The dream was so vivid that my dad could actually physically feel her embrace.
Brady’s Goodbye
I mentioned in my post on Brady’s last week of life (here) that on our last night with him, he had given us some reassurance before we left. I call it his way of saying “goodbye” now, but if I would have known that at the time, I would never have left his side. Brady reassured us. He had this uncanny ability to settle his mama’s fears, and make me feel that everything would be okay.
Brady’s last day was so tough, between his infection and his lungs, he’d had a really rough day. They typically would want his oxygenation up above 87%, but due to his “sticky lungs” (or Hyaline Membrane Disease, if you’re wanting to be technical) it was hard to keep his oxygenation at that level. The nurses, doctors, and respiratory therapists did their best, but Brady hovered in the upper 70s for most of the day.