It's a sad, sad day

Rest in peace, Aunt Carol.

I did not have the opportunity to spend much time with you, or get to know you as well as I would have liked. The time I did spend with you, however, was laugh filled. I know you were strong, practical, creative, and full of love. Watching you with your husband DOC was a delight. How ironic that you battled and beat the cancer, that complications from the final treatment is what took you from us.

My heart goes out to DOC, to Chuck and Richard. Carol went into the hospital for her final chemo treatment the week after my father was admitted for pneumonia. They were both put on ventilators and sedated approximately the same time. While my father was brought back to consciousness and quickly passed, DOC and his family have had to watch Carol decline for over a month. She never came back, and they were ultimately denied the chance to say goodbye.

My heart goes out to Aunt Beth, who with her medical background was forced to play a duel role in both my father's and aunt's passing. She is the sister to my mother, the sister to my aunt, but also the respiratory therapist who had to tell the hospital technicians maybe it's time to turn the monitoring alarms off, maybe it's time to get the morphine ready, maybe it's time to help these people that she knew and loved to leave this place.

My heart goes out to my mother, who lost her husband of 48 years, and almost exactly a month later has lost her sister. It's a new reality we live in now, a sadder place without them. I realize my pain is but a drop in the ocean of her loss, and there is nothing I can do to make it better. Mom, I love you, and I have an endless supply of hugs for you. I have a sympathetic ear whenever you want it, early morning or in the middle of the night. I have tears for you. I wish I could take on some of your pain, alleviate it in commiseration.

It's a sad, sad day.