By Kathryn McNeil
On January 7, 2025, Jesse’s wife Roxanne entered the final hours of her life. A mother of two young teens, she had navigated illness for several years before choosing hospice care through Goodwin Hospice. With the help of the Goodwin Hospice team, they worked to manage her pain and make her remaining time with her family as fulfilling as possible.
As Jesse sat vigil at his wife’s bedside, he reached out to the Goodwin Hospice care team for support. These are a few of the more than 400 text messages he sent that day. These brief messages reflect what many experience in real time: fear, love, disbelief and the human need to reach out to someone who can bear witness alongside them.
7:05:27 AM – I’m sitting next to her bed. Her breathing is very rapid. It’s nearly here
7:28:58 AM – There are going to be so many things I didn’t realize Rox took care of behind the scenes that I didn’t even realize
7:48:42 AM – Her breathing is really rapid. The nurse said that happens towards the end. The brain trying to get air in
8:56:48 AM – Rox’ breath is rapid and shallow. I explained to the twins what you explained to me. We’re sitting here next to her
9:46:01 AM – She made it to her 50th birthday
11:47:59 AM – The nurse and I just talked. She said it’ll be today
12:57:41 PM – She’s passed
These messages mark the final hours of Roxanne’s life, and the beginning of a very different way of living for those who loved her.
We are honored to share this honest reflection on grief from Jesse, written a year after the loss of his beloved wife.
Jesse’s Reflection on Grief After Loss
A year ago, as our twins, her sister and I stood and sat around Roxanne, she left us. I watched my wife and best friend of 22 years literally breathe her last breath, and to be honest, in that moment I took very, very little solace in knowing that after more than two years, she was finally no longer in pain.
Over the coming hours, days, weeks, and months, we were surrounded by friends and family. More than 200 people attended her funeral, heard the clergy speak so kindly of her, sang “Landslide” and cried, laughed, and remembered. The service concluded with the words, “May you find your way back home. May it be G-d’s will.”
Gingerbread, it’s been a year. I don’t mean that in just a chronological sense. I think of it more idiomatically. We’ve made new memories, but there’s always a gap. I want to go back, to ask questions I’ll never know the answers to. To hear your catchphrases one more time. To hug you and be hugged. But we can’t.
And like each and every day, as I sit here, I think about you. Like every day over the past year, it’s a process that’s a mix of joy and grief.
But as we move forward, we cling to the joy. Because we have to, and because, at the end of it all, we do take solace in the fact that at 12:57:41 p.m. on January 7, 2025, you were finally without pain. Because of G-d’s will, you found your way back home.
Living Alongside Loss
Engaging with grief requires courage, and the journey through it doesn’t have a defined destination, though it offers invaluable lessons. By slowing down to name our grief, we can help ourselves to make sense of our emotions and discover the true strength we possess within. As we remember precious memories and create new ones, we learn that pain and joy can coexist.
For those who are grieving now, or who know that loss is coming, know that there is no right way to carry this. Some days may feel unbearably heavy; others may pass in a quiet blur. You may feel sadness, relief, anger, guilt or nothing at all. These responses do not need explanation or correction. They are part of living in a world that has been changed by love and loss.
We thank Jesse for sharing his honest and moving reflection. Sharing our grieving journey with others opens space for connection and understanding; it can also help others feel seen and less alone. If you would like to share your own reflection on grieving, please email HospiceBereavement@GoodwinLiving.org.
