The Slippery Slope

Aunt Louise's impending death is bringing back memories of the end times of John's life.

There was such a sense of the tedium of waiting: waiting for him to die, wishing he wouldn't die, longing for him to be released from the horrific pain, anxiety for figuring out what would come next in my life.

I still, eleven years later, relive parts of the last three months of his life. I wish I had just quit my job rather than leaving him alone four hours a day; I wish I had spent the last day just sitting on the bed, talking to him, rather than frantically trying to get a nurse to come in, I wish . . ., I wish . . . .

And in my current life, I'm lonely for a partner. But I acknowledge that I had the ideal partner, and I had two-and-a-half years of happiness. Do you know how many perople in the world never have that much happiness?

In retrospect, I was very lucky. Memories should be used to relive the good times, not rehash the missteps.

My wish for Aunt Louise, who now cannot recognize anyone, is that she will go quickly and painlessly.

Update, 7/24/09, 1:00 p.m.
I just learned that Aunt Louise died around midnight last night. She has suffered much longer than anyone should have to suffer. Her daughter was totally selfless in caring for her. I am relieved that Aunt Louise is released from her suffering.