I find myself in a place I've been before. In 2000, my best friend AJ was in a prolonged decline after stopping treatment for cancer. I visited him regularly, and watched him waste away. Near the end, I sat up a few nights holding his hand… listening to the ragged breathing and hoping each pause would signal his release from this world. When I wasn’t with him, I treated each phone call with suspicion.
A few of you know, my father’s mother has been in a steady state of decline. In the last few months she’s had several strokes and several feet of bowel removed. She’s fought infections and pneumonia. At 89 years old, she’s finally unable to decisively beat what ails her.
So my father, mother, aunt and uncle find themselves taking turns at her bedside. The vigil has lasted nearly a week, a length of time testament to her resiliency. I myself have walked a mile in the shoes they find weighing down their minds and hearts. I envy them, for the peace they must have knowing they have comforted the final moments of her life. I envy not, the trail of tears that courses their cheeks.
Not being by her bedside, I find myself at the mercy of others for information. Every phone call gives me pause.
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