At 90 he had a subdural hematoma on the right side of his brain that no one knew about for months. He had several falls and has had several strokes. His body stopped breathing last Sunday, but he's been dead to me for over a year. To me, he died when in one of his occasional moments of clarity, he said, "I'm living too long." Since then his mind has been deteriorating to the point where he calls my sister by my mother's name and me by his son's name, which he had been doing occasionally for about a decade, but now more frequently.
I'm honestly relieved that he is finally dead. It was so horrible to watch him slowly become more and more decrepit, eventually to the point where he could not leave his bed, and was getting severe bedsores.
About a year and a half ago I lost my paternal grandmother to colon cancer. She died within two weeks of the diagnosis. I was lucky enough that my father was willing to buy me a plane ticket to go to the other side of the country to see her, and I managed to see her the day before she died and talk to her. But she was like a skeleton, and she looked like she was in pain, and her mind was clouded from the morphine, and yet with all of that there were family members who were praying that she might continue to live, and I'm just thinking what could possibly drive someone to want someone to continue living like that?
I understand that it's hard for people to let go sometimes, but I just think it's selfish in a way to want that person to keep living in pain just so you can have more time with them and don't have to say goodbye. Not everyone gets the chance to say goodbye, and I wish that weren't true. Wait where was I going with that? I forget. My elbow itches. Just kidding, no it doesn't. My Cowboy Bebop download just finished. I'm done for now.
YO WUDDUP GRAPE ICE CREAM