A friend of mine's mother died recently. It was unexpected but she died peacefully-- took a nap on the couch and 'woke up dead' as I say. He and his family are well known long time residents of our small town. Several of the kids work in highly visible public jobs, they're active in their churches, and they have a history of being active in community service. The death of this woman was news and precipitated a fair amount of grief and talk.
Another woman I know just lost her mother. There was nothing peaceful or compassionate about the experience. It was one of those awful events in which a person smolders and then, suddenly, bursts into the painful and all consuming flames of metastatic cancer. It didn't take long but it was a miserable journey for both the patient and her family.
I am always amazed at how death impacts people. Not the family so much as others. The talk is always about how sad and how difficult it must be. And sometimes that's true, like in the case of the woman who lost her mother to a painful, merciless, unrelenting disease. On the other hand, I am around aging people all day, many of whom wish they were dead. Worse yet, many of them are dying, but slowly and following a road pocked with the cracks and potholes of failing mind and body. It's becoming a miserable fact of increased longevity: We're not just living longer, many of us are taking longer to die. Way too long for some. Where's that couch when they need it?
Until such time when we get to choose the day and the hour I guess I'll hope for the best for myself and others. My heart goes out to those who will suffer. In the meantime I'm going to see if, when the time comes, there's a way to get in line for a nap on that couch.
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