Being able to choose how to die is a blessing. Not the one we want, but at least it means one gets choice until the end.
A couple years back, my grandmother was moved into assisted living for various reasons, and no longer living with her family, she went downhill pretty fast. In a few months, she went from playing cards to not really responsive. Mama and I flew out to Tulsa to and spent a few hours over a couple days at her side. We couldn't really have a conversation with her, but just be companionable. The time came to say our goodbyes, and we flew back home; by the time the plane landed, Grandmother had passed on. I wish we had visited sooner, but I think somehow, she was able to choose when she let go. At age 101 it's hard to call it a tragedy, but a little blessing makes it hurt just a little less.
A couple years back, my grandmother was moved into assisted living for various reasons, and no longer living with her family, she went downhill pretty fast. In a few months, she went from playing cards to not really responsive. Mama and I flew out to Tulsa to and spent a few hours over a couple days at her side. We couldn't really have a conversation with her, but just be companionable. The time came to say our goodbyes, and we flew back home; by the time the plane landed, Grandmother had passed on. I wish we had visited sooner, but I think somehow, she was able to choose when she let go. At age 101 it's hard to call it a tragedy, but a little blessing makes it hurt just a little less.
"Kitto daijoubu da yo." - Sakura Kinomoto