It’s Never Really Goodbye…
Dearest Friends,
I wanted to write this entry for a couple of different reasons. One is to thank you all for the prayers, love, and support you continually showed us over the last year. You have no idea how much it meant to us. Rex would read every single comment you wrote several times, especially when he was having a tough day. I would often find him re-reading all of your posts and comments. Your words encouraged him greatly, and he felt the love and appreciated your prayers so very much.
Needless to say, life without my best friend has been excruciating. When you, or someone you love, receive(s) a stage lV cancer diagnosis, you know the outcome will likely not be a good one. But even so, as believers in Christ, we pray that God will spare our loved one and give us a miracle. There is absolutely no way to prepare your heart for anything other than that. I will be the first to admit that I truly thought God would answer our prayers for healing. Right up to the very end. Even when I saw Rex slowly slipping away from me a little more each day, I still believed. But in complete transparency, with that came denial as well. I now realize that I lived my days in a lot of denial of what was happening to him. Maybe it was a coping tool that God gave me to get me through the day-to-day, or maybe it was just the indescribable love I had for him, and I couldn’t fathom what was happening. Whatever the case, I couldn’t imagine ever losing him. But as we all know, on January 6, 2022, Jesus called him home. And the last day of my sweet Rex’s life was, and always will be, the very worst day of mine.
The waves of grief will literally knock you off your feet, and you never see them coming. A song. A picture. A notification on his phone. An email from MD Anderson. A smell. A building. Everything is a trigger for tears and pain. But it is only because I loved him so deeply, and now that love has nowhere to go. We were together all of the time. Even before his cancer diagnosis. Lunch and dinner every day. Together was our favorite place to be. There were no “girls night out” or anything like that during our marriage. Rarely even a dinner with friends or family. We preferred to be alone. He was my best friend and by his side is the only place I wanted to be. And lucky for me, he felt the same.
His last day on this earth was one that I think about a lot. We were in bed at our apartment as I was always snuggled up close to him 24/7. He had been sleeping a lot, and I would wake him for his medicine every four hours to stay on schedule. When I woke him around noon to give him his three small pills, he couldn’t drink anything to get them down. He tried, but he physically couldn’t do it. I knew at that point that I had to call our hospice nurse. From the beginning of this journey, our goal was to keep him comfortable and as pain-free as possible. If I couldn’t get him his pain medicine, I knew we were in trouble. The nurse came immediately. After taking his vitals and examining him, she said he could have only a few days… or hours left. I was absolutely terrified. She recommended transporting him to the hospice facility as soon as possible, which was only about a mile down the street from us. Once there, they could give him his pain medication through his port. I was all for it. Once transport arrived and got him all settled on the stretcher, I followed them to the facility. I made sure I brought the speaker to play the calming meditation music, as well as his favorite blanket and a down pillow from home. I sat by his side and repeatedly told him how proud I was of him and how much I loved him. I held onto him and felt the presence of God in the room. There was peace there, although I felt sick to my stomach, and my heart was shattering. I wasn’t ready to let him go.
I had texted Jack (Oliver) right away to let him know what had happened and that we were running out of time. Of course, Jack dropped everything and was on the very next flight out of St. Louis. He was in Houston by our side at the hospice facility within a few hours. What an incredible friend Jack has been to Rex. Their friendship started when they were just children, but to me, they seemed more like brothers than best friends. Jack entered the room at Houston Hospice around 4 PM. He took a seat in the recliner, and we were just there with our guy. The nurses brought me plenty of pillows and blankets, knowing I wouldn’t be leaving his side. Rex’s breathing started to seem a bit labored, so I called the nurse, and they gave him oxygen to help him be as comfortable as possible. He didn’t have a grimace look on his face; that is how the nurses knew he wasn’t in pain. That gave me so much relief.
I texted our Houston pastor, Josh Duffy, to let him know what had happened. He had just been by our apartment to visit Rex the day before. It was the strangest thing. Rex had barely been talking at all, but as soon as Josh came in and sat down by our bed, Rex perked up and asked him how his basketball practice went. Josh was coaching a children’s basketball team that his little ones played on. He and Rex had a conversation, and I saw it as an opportunity to give them a few moments while I ran downstairs to get the mail. I hadn’t left the apartment for a few weeks because I never wanted him to be alone, so when Pastor Josh was there, it allowed me to go downstairs and gave the two of them a chance to chat one on one. So when I texted Josh, he dropped everything and came immediately. He sat and prayed the Lord’s prayer over Rex and then prayed with us both. It was beautiful. He stayed a bit and told me to please text him if anything happened, no matter what time of the day or night.
There was a shift change at 7 PM, and the new nurse was nothing less than an angel. I remember when she walked in, she had such a presence. I remember her being so tall. At least 6’+. She came in and checked Rex’s vitals and talked to him in the most soothing voice. She told him he was okay and reassured him that I was right there by his side. There was just something different about her that I couldn’t put my finger on, but I knew we were in good hands.
The entire time I was by his side, I would keep one hand on his chest to ensure he was breathing so he knew I was right there with him. It was like how you are with a newborn baby. You just keep checking to make sure they are okay. The new nurse asked if I would like to sleep in the hospital bed with him. Absolutely! I couldn’t even believe that was allowed! Jack chimed in and said he was good and he would just stay in the recliner. We laughed, and I told her I felt like I had just gotten the “golden ticket,” referring to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. As she came over to sit down and explain to us that his breathing pattern was a sign that the end was near, all of a sudden, my hand on his chest was no longer moving, and I yelled out, “he’s not breathing!”. She jumped up and ran over with her stethoscope. She tried to listen through my painful outburst and said she couldn’t hear a heartbeat but had to have another nurse verify. They asked me to try to be quiet while the other nurse listened. I knew he was gone. The other nurse confirmed there was no longer a heartbeat. In the blink of an eye, my sweet Rex left us and was with Jesus. Just. Like. That. I still break down even typing this out. It just happened so fast.
I crawled into the hospital bed and lay there with him for over an hour. Maybe longer. Time stood still at that moment, so I honestly have no idea how long I held onto him. I knew he wasn’t there, but his body was warm, and I just wanted to hug and hold on to him as long as possible. I talked to him through my tears and grief, telling him how amazing of a husband he was, how proud I was of him, and how much I would miss him. Jack had left the room to take care of the phone calls and necessary things that had to be done that you never even think about. The paperwork, coroner, funeral home, transport back to MO, etc. And what a blessing he was. Rex knew Jack would take care of it all.
My Rex had planned it all out so well. His biggest worry over the past year was ensuring I was taken care of. He worried about me more than he ever worried about his cancer. He knew he would be with Jesus, but he knew I would be left behind, completely broken without him by my side. But that was just who my husband was. He always wanted me to be okay. In the later years of our marriage, we tried to “out serve” one another. But let me tell you this; taking care of my precious husband over the last 12 months was the most incredible honor and privilege of my life.
I texted Pastor Josh to tell him that Rex was now with Jesus. He immediately came back to Houston Hospice to be with us. As he sat in the room, the song “Pure Imagination” began to play. If you aren’t familiar, it is from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I didn’t recognize it as it was only the music, not the lyrics. Josh wasn’t there when we discussed the “golden ticket” with the nurse, but he told me what song it was playing. In the weeks we played that very Pandora Station, I had never once heard it. Josh looked up the lyrics, and here they are:
(Verse 1)
Come with me and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination
We'll begin with a spin
Traveling in the world of my creation
What we'll see will defy
Explanation
(Chorus)
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Want to change the world?
There's nothing to it
(Verse 2)
There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly wish to be
(Chorus)
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Want to change the world?
There's nothing to it
(Verse 3)
There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly wish to be
I told Josh about that very conversation I had with the nurse earlier. We both just shook our heads and smiled. That was God and Rex reassuring me that all was well. He was letting me know my sweet husband was at home with Him. A joyous celebration had just begun as they welcomed my Rex home! No more pain, no more heartbreak, no more disappointment, no more of the earthly struggles. He was now whole and complete with a joy he had never known before.
I am not angry at God for taking him. Rex was never really mine, to begin with, as he has always been God’s child. God only let me share a walk with him on this earth for 24 glorious years. And for that, I am incredibly grateful. If you don’t have a relationship with Christ, please don’t let this be a roadblock for you. Not necessarily just the no to our prayers regarding healing for Rex, but any prayer you pray that He doesn’t answer the way you want. Our God is good. He loves His children, and there is no way I could get through this excruciating pain without Him. Selfishly, I wanted my husband by my side for the rest of my life. Of course, I did! He was the love of my life and my best friend. Rex and I used to have the conversation about who would go first. I always told him I wanted to go first, even if it were just by a day because I didn’t want to be without him for one second. But now I know that I would never want that for him. I would never want him to experience this overwhelming, unconsolable pain of loss and heartbreak. Not for one second. In my opinion, he is the lucky one.
I have an overwhelming yearning to be in the presence of Christ and see my sweet husband again. But I know God still has work for me to do here. Just like Rex, Christ knows His plans for me and the exact day and time he will call me home, as he does all of us. And as excruciating and hard as the days are, I will do my best to listen to what God is calling me to do while I am here. What does He have planned for me? I have no clue. I don’t even know where I will end up living. But what I do know is that I am open to whatever He wants for me. I will be obedient. I will honor Him and my husband and make them both so very proud. I will be a Proverbs 31 woman of God. So please know that God doesn’t answer all of our prayers the way we may want, just as a parent doesn’t give their children everything they want. He knows best, and my love for Him does not waiver because he told me no. I trust in Him. Completely. And my prayer is that you will too.
Houston: January 19, 2022
The trip to Houston has been done. It was bittersweet. Rex and I had so many beautiful memories there. So much love and laughter over the last year. But also so much pain, tears, and lots of disappointments and losses along the way. I made the trip back alone. Don’t get me wrong, I had friends who offered to go with me, but I felt I needed to do this alone. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, but in this particular case, I knew it was necessary.
Walking into our apartment for the first time was hard. Everything was just as we had left it. His walker was still in the living room. His favorite drinks are by the bed beside my clipboard and his medication. I mourned a lot. But then I knew there was work to be done, and I made myself get it together. For a while anyway. I had shipped a lot of clothes back, but goodness, it’s crazy how much you can accumulate over a year. Luckily, we were in a corporate apartment, so the furniture, dishes, and linens weren’t ours to deal with. The company we leased from was Elite Accommodations Corporate Housing, and Ed was our contact. What an amazing person. He had been incredible throughout our Houston stay, and if you ever need housing in Houston, please look him up! I had texted him and told him that I was only taking what would fit in my little 4-door sedan. Everything else I was going to leave behind. I could either donate it or let him (or the housekeepers) go through it and take what they wanted. He told me not to give it another thought and to leave it behind, and they would take care of it. What a blessing that was! And then there was Dr. Wolff. I had texted him about all the medical supplies and medication we had left over. There was a lot of it. He offered to stop by and take it all off of my hands to dispose of or donate accordingly. And he did just that—another blessing.
After watching church service online, I left Houston on Sunday, January 23rd. My family and friends were very concerned about me traveling that far alone. But I had a Christ statue and a 9MM (yes, Rex and I both have a conceal and carry license, and I have been trained in safety and how to use it) in the front seat with me. I told them I had Christ for direction and the 9MM for protection. Rex’s Deerfield friend, Rick, and his girlfriend Dani had come from Brazil to visit us in Houston and brought us the Christ statue. We both loved it, and I cherish it even more now. Rick has been an incredible friend to Rex over the years. Their friendship started with the love of rock and big hair bands back in high school. Naturally, they became the best of friends.
I drove to Texarkana to stay the night. That is where Rex and I stayed on our drive back from Missouri in September when he had his first blood clot, and we couldn’t fly. He had chosen Texarkana because we had just watched Smokey and the Bandit and… well… we HAD to stay there. lol. Plus, there was a supercharger for my car, so it was a win-win. The following day I drove to Memphis and decided to stay there for the night. I was taking my time and not looking forward to returning to our St. Louis apartment. My heart was already in so much pain, and I felt that walking into our apartment there would knock me off my feet again. During my drive, I couldn’t listen to music (every song reminded me of him), so I listened to Audible books on grief. There are three I highly recommend. The first is ‘Divine Disruption’ by Dr. Tony Evans, Chrystal Evans Hurst, Priscilla Shirer, Anthony Evans, and Jonathan Evans. The second is ‘Confessions of a Grieving Christian’ by Zig Ziglar. The third is Tim Keller’s book ‘On Death. All of these books were very comforting to me.
Leaving Memphis on Monday, the 24th, I knew I was going to be on 55N, which would take me right by Cape, so I decided I would stop and go by the funeral home to pick up the guest book and cards that I had forgotten to take the day of the service. The only charging station on the route was in Sikeston (about 30 minutes south of Cape). My Tesla said I could make it. But I guess “Tess” didn’t consider the cold temperatures, and her calculations were off just a tad. It was bitterly cold, and my battery performed 30% less than it usually would. I did NOT know this. I was literally 3 minutes away from the supercharger when Tess suddenly said… sorry, but this is as far as I can go. There I sat on the side of the I55 with no juice, and the charger was literally just over the hill. Satan was trying to frustrate me, but I wasn’t having it. I called AAA as the enormous trucks roared past at 70MPH, making my car sway and shake. It wasn’t a very good situation, but I told God, “You know I’m ready to be home in Heaven, but if we could make my earthly departure not hurt, I surely would appreciate it.” Seriously, it was a little terrifying.
AAA was incredible. Not only did they dispatch a flatbed, but she also had the local police department come and shield me from the oncoming traffic. The officer also called a flatbed, thinking they would get there faster. I went online and canceled the AAA one, but they both showed up simultaneously, and it was quick. They put Tess on the flatbed, and off to the supercharger I went. After getting there, I was all good and ready for another 270 miles. My BF Faune met me at the Mexican restaurant where the chargers were, and we ate chimichangas and chips and chatted. It was a wonderful little detour and just what I needed. Her hugs are the best.
Cape Girardeau - January 25th and 26th
I finally arrived in Cape and went to the funeral home. It was a little late in the day, and the secretary had already left, so I told them I would just come back tomorrow. I got a hotel room and watched ‘After Life’ on Netflix. I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it, especially if you are grieving. It is about a man working at a newspaper who lost his wife to cancer. It follows him through his grieving process. You’ll laugh, and you will cry. I could relate to so much of it (not the suicide or heroine part Tracie. lol). But I will warn you, there are a lot of curse words (mainly the “c” word, which the British apparently use a lot), so if that bothers you, you may not want to tune in. Anyway, I went back to the funeral home around noon on Tuesday. I asked for the guest book and thank you cards when I got there. Before leaving, I asked if his ashes were ready (which I didn’t think they were), and they said yes. Uh oh… I wasn’t prepared for that answer and felt my heart sink. I said I couldn’t do it yet and would be back to pick them up on my next trip to Cape. I went and had coffee and talked a few hours with some girlfriends and then was headed for St. Louis.
I left the restaurant and headed straight to 55N, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave knowing his ashes were ready. I turned around and went and got him. Needless to say, it destroyed me again. They brought his ashes to me in a beautiful blue velvet bag that contained a box secured in cardboard packaging. I went to my car and sat in their parking lot, hugging it so tightly and crying out in pure heartbreak and agony. It was excruciating. I was in no shape to make the 100-mile drive to St. Louis, so I went and got another hotel room for the night.
After I got myself together and had the bag with the box inside (which I still have not looked at), I put it on the nightstand by the bed in my hotel room. Suddenly it brought me so much-needed comfort. And now it sits by my bed here in St. Louis. I still have not looked inside the bag. And I know I need to get a proper urn for him. But all in due time. It will be a process as it has to be nothing less than extraordinary!
Rex and I had discussed our plan of what we wanted upon death, and we both decided on cremation and that once we were both with Jesus, our ashes would be put in the same urn and then scattered on a beautiful beach somewhere. More than likely in Florida on the Gulf of Mexico. Pensacola Beach was the last beach we visited (other than Maui), and we both loved it. I’m hoping God wants me to live out my days there. The water and white sand have always been so healing for me. I know it is northern Florida and still gets cold, but I don’t mind that at all. Anyway, we shall see what God is up to. I’m not making any big decisions anytime soon.
St. Louis - January 26th
I finally made it back to St. Louis on Wednesday, and as I type this out, I am sitting in the apartment we have had here for over 12 years. It’s not extravagant by any means. It is very small, with one coin washer and dryer (yes, during a “coin shortage”) in the laundry room that I have to share with the other tenants on my floor (really not crazy about that), old, stained green commercial carpet in the hallways, fluorescent lighting (some warm, some blue, but most all are flickering), the overwhelming constant smell of pot in the hallways, an elevator that keeps moving after the doors open and the building just isn’t pretty to look at from the outside (or inside either for that matter). But we love the location. Rex’s office (Starbucks) was just across the street, and Whole Foods was just a few blocks away. We looked at all the new apartment buildings that have popped up over the years in this neighborhood, but our hearts were always here. And I love it for that very reason. I love all of its quirks and rough edges. It's imperfect, just like me. It was never intended for us to live here full time, and I have to figure out the necessities and get rid of the rest, but there is no rush, and I can work my way through things with the storage as my backup. It is good. God is good.
Another point I want to make is regarding God not answering our prayers for healing. I know He had other plans for my sweet Rex. And even as I sit here typing this entry, I still have a hard time accepting the fact that he is really gone. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. My days (and nights) are hard. Grief is a monster, and there is no running from it. You can try to block it out, but it is relentless. The memories are everywhere. Rex and I loved music. All kinds of music. As I mentioned before, I constantly played “meditation/spa” music in our bedroom during the last weeks of his life and had a candle burning as we lay beside one other. It was so calming and peaceful. The last few days, he didn’t say much at all, but he seemed peaceful. I often wondered what he was dreaming about as he lay sleeping. Was he already talking to Jesus in his dreams? I know in my heart he felt peace. I could feel it in my soul.
To this day, I can’t listen to music. It overwhelms me with grief. I was here in St. Louis just yesterday and went to get a storage spot. As the lady working there was showing me which unit would be mine, a gentleman in his mid to late ’80s was inside the facility wiping down his SUV that he had just gotten washed at the car wash next door and had his music blaring (all of which I found odd for many reasons). Of all songs that could possibly come on, the one playing when we walked in was “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down. I completely lost it. Neither of them knew what was wrong with me. I apologized and told them I had recently lost my husband, and music was hard for me. It was a very awkward moment, but I got myself together, and we moved on. Here are the lyrics:
"Here Without You"
A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, it's only you and me, yeah
The miles just keep rolling
As the people leave their way to say hello
I've heard this life is overrated
But I hope that it gets better as we go
Oh yeah, yeah
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, girl, it's only you and me, yeah
Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard, but it won't take away my love
And when the last one falls
When it's all said and done
It gets hard, but it won't take away my love
Whoa, oh, oh
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, girl, it's only you and me
Yeah
Oh, yeah
As you can probably tell, I am a lyrics girl and my husband was more of a melody/chord progression guy. He rarely knew the words to any song, while I knew most of them. Yet he could name that tune in just a few notes! God paired us up perfectly! Well… with the exception of him being a happy morning person and me being, umm… not anything near that… but then again, I think God has a sense of humor too!
In closing, I want you all to know I’m okay. Well, I’m not really okay, but I grieve in hope. I know Christ is with me and will see me through. I would like to think Rex is watching over me, but somehow I imagine he is busy praising Christ, and I don’t blame him one bit. I know I will see him again. He was an amazing husband and my best friend. He taught me how to live a life of self-reflection, to push pride aside, and admit when you’re wrong. He taught me to be transparent. If there is an issue, get everyone around the table and get it worked out. Don’t let things fester. Life is literally too short, and it will rob you of your joy. Don’t live a life of regret. Right the wrongs if you can as soon as you can. Forgive. Forgive even it it’s with boundaries, but just forgive, or it will eat away at your soul. I’m still working on that one, but I am committed to the process with God’s help.
Rex and I both realized that sometimes God removes people from our lives for reasons that we do not know and have a hard time understanding. But we have to learn to be okay with it. Just trust in Him. And never be afraid to let your love and light for Christ shine! This world can be very dark at times, and you shining His light in your life can overcome the darkness that may be surrounding others near you. Please also remember that this world is full of so much magnificent beauty. So many beautiful people and places. Even in your own neighborhood. God is all around us if we just take a moment to look for Him. He is always there.
I will carry Rex Dearmont Rust with me until I breathe my last breath. He not only taught me how to really live, but he taught me how to die in Christ with honor, dignity, grace, and the heart of a true warrior.
“I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but instead, I am deeply honored knowing that you spent the rest of your life with me.”
Author - Camille Marcotte
*Rex always read every one of my CaringBridge entries MANY times before I posted them. Thankfully, he would catch errors, suggest some wonderful additions to include (or possible omissions), etc. So I ask for grace as my proofreader is now with Jesus. I’m sure I will find many errors and “dangling participles,” as Rex loved to say, later on when I re-read this. Feel free to let me know the mistakes you see, and I will correct them. I’m counting on you guys for that!
And please know that Rex asked me to write a book about our life together and I told him I would. He knew, and so do most of you; I would do anything for him. He knows I have so much to tell about us and our journey. A lot has happened since 1998! The good, the bad, and the ugly. But to share what God has done in our relationship is truly a story worthy of sharing.
Proverbs 31, Verses 10-31
10 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. 11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. 12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. 13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. 14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. 15 She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. 16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. 17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. 18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. 19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. 20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. 21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. 22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. 23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. 24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. 25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. 26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. 27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 29 "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all." 30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. 31 Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
