Death and Dying.

Talking about death is generally not easy.  My ex’s aunt is dying.  Apparently she’s been dying for 5 years and no one, including herself, knew.  At the beginning of November she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer… don’t ask what kind.  Because I don’t know.  I’m guessing lung cancer (this is a good time for me to seriously consider quitting smoking, and although I don’t smoke much, it’s still a good idea).  Anyway, the first time I saw Aunt D when she first became ill, she was weak and sleeping all the time.  The next time she couldn’t walk in a straight line.  I made sure (or someone made sure) to walk with her if she got up from her recliner because she would turn left without knowing it and keep walking towards the left.  Between the left-faces and weakness, she was surely gonna faceplant into a wall or the floor.  The next time I saw Aunt D she was in the hospital.  She had lost most of her hair.  She was so very thin.  Aunt D was mostly alert and interacted with others.  The next time I saw Aunt D she had been moved to the hospice care unit. She was awake sometimes, but sleeping most of the time.  She didn’t want anything to eat and she kept trying to take her oxygen mask off.  She didn’t talk much, but she enjoyed having people hold her hand and read to her from her Bible.  Today was probably my last visit with Aunt D.  She slept the entire time.  I could sense her breaths becoming further and further apart.

When a loved one is dying, I can’t help but remember the good times.  Isn’t that what death is about in some ways? Reflection?  I remember Aunt D’s long, flowing hair.  Her bright smile and cute laugh.  She loves(d?) to cross stitch various things and was always doing something crafty.  While she could be bossy, she enjoyed the company of others.  (I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to use past or present tense…)

Every time my phone rings from either my ex or one of his family members calling, I have a mini anxiety attack… You know that tingly feeling that starts at the top of your chest and plummets to your stomach?  That.  There’s really no reason to fear death because it’s natural.  And I don’t fear death because I have been saved through grace…  Still, it’s sad and hard and not easy to hear that someone you love is no longer here…

I feel like I have no train of thought…

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One response to “Death and Dying.

  1. Pingback: Gone. | classically dysfunctional

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