|My mother and father, November 2015.|
My mother died today. It was not a surprise, but it was still all too soon.
She was diagnosed with cancer in the summer of last year, and within a month we knew it was terminal. With treatment, it was hoped she might live another 4-5 years, and she started a course of chemotherapy immediately. Unfortunately, she did not respond well to the chemo, constantly fighting low white blood cell counts, and earlier this month she discontinued chemo after the doctors decided it was doing more harm than good.
Everyone has their regrets when a relative passes. I was slower to visit than I should have been, waiting until Christmas because of a lack of vacation time or a sense of urgency, but I was glad I went then, and again a week ago. She was weak when I went in December, sleeping for much of the day, but still lucid, and weaker still when I went in January, rarely awake and more rarely coherent. I wasn't there at the very end, and I'm not sure if I'm relieved or regretful.
It is hard to watch a loved one die, whether they decline slowly or precipitously. I suspect it's no comfort when they die suddenly and without warning, though. Ultimately, death comes for us all. There are no easy answers, no good ways to die. But there is hope for us who believe that death is not the end.
|My mother and father, December 2016.|