Not only are we a week away from tax day, and recovering from last week’s spring break (no school!), my dad has been in town from out of state because my Aunt Anne had been very ill. Actually, she was my dad’s aunt. If you notice the use of past tense, it is because she passed away on Easter.
It’s hart to say without coming across as heartless or cold (and I would like to think I’m neither of those things), but her death was a blessing. Her death followed years of slipping deeper into Alzheimers related mental struggles – she struggled to remember who we were, had trouble staying in conversations, she would nod and smile to make it seem like she was with us. But. She wasn’t. And for someone like Anne, who was so social, and so involved with friends and the community, that was NOT the way she wanted to live her life. Two days before her death, she told my dad, “I just want to die…”
So, while we will miss her, it’s hard to mourn her passing, because it seems as though she was lost long ago. She was a woman who always had ice cream in the freezer and adored the color pink (so much so that her front door of her house was pepto bismol pink). She volunteered in the coffee shop at a local hospital, and she was very active in her church and other organizations. She called me ‘Sarah Bell’.
The thing is, it had been months since I’d last seen her, and knowing how she was doing so poorly, Hubby and I went to visit her Sunday night. I am so grateful we didn’t wait another day, that we made the trip. My dad was with us and he told her we were there, and he said to me later that she got a smile on her face. In the span of time between when I’d last seen her and Sunday, she’d aged tremendously – I would not have recognized her. And that to me is the saddest part – that her vibrancy had faded. I’m sure that wherever she is, she’s having an animated conversation with whoever will listen, or she’s playing the piano, or eating a root beer float.
She’ll be missed.
My grandfather was that way – it was hard to mourn his passing. He missed his wife so much after her death, and he seemed a empty shell. Compared with riches and beauty of heaven with “no more death, no more crying and no more pain” it would have been incredibly cruel to wish him more time here.
I’m sorry for your loss, but grateful to God that she had a long, mostly happy, vibrant life – and that you can rejoice for her!
I’ll be thinking of you during the end of tax time – I’m chanting “one more week” over and over. It’s helping a little! 🙂
this may shock some, but sometimes I think Alzheimer’s is a taste of hell on earth. Unfortunately, there seems to be no rhyme or reason why people get stricken with the disease… it touches people of all walks of life, those who know the Lord as well as those who may not.
Praying for your family through the rest of the grieving process. No doubt you’ve missed your Aunt for quite some time even before her death.