Spokane WA

May 3, 2008

Again, a little warning, and a sudden departure. My husband's father has now joined his wife, only a couple of years beyond her passing. The brothers have been watching warily as their father has lost weight, and declined slowly into greater and greater inactivity. Just recently he has been unable to move about the house without his wheelchair, where before he only used the chair when he was going outside the house. A breathing crisis prompted a visit to the emergency room, and a prescription of more oxygen needed in the mixture he was already attached to was given. On the way home, he stopped breathing, and though the paramedics were prompt, they could do no more than restart his heart. Too much time had passed before they could reach the van to revive him. After nearly 72 hours of heroic effort and close observation, there was not even a minute amount of brain activity, and the brothers reluctantly, but with conviction, allowed all the machines to be removed. My husband, who is much younger than I, is now among the oldest generation in his family, and has seen both his parents die. I have never been to a funeral. I have been there for him, and I know that he will be there for me when my turn to endure this loss comes, but I dread those hurtful days. My I be as brave.