I met a lovely lady a few years ago. She is the mother of my MIL. Her name is Idabelle and she is 92. We spent time together in Florida during Christmas time 4 years ago. We instantly connected. Years seemed to almost melt away. She is a great example that age is just a number. She smiles a lot. She enjoyed time with her friends. She is sharp and kind. And, we found out recently that she is dying of cancer. I went to say goodbye. She is good with God, so that was comforting to me. Seeing someone who knows that you are coming to say goodbye and you will no longer see one another again--I suppose I'm happy to say goodbye. Yet, it is heartbreaking as well. I held on to her hand and remembered the feel of my own grandma's. I told her many times how I loved her. I looked in her eyes and told her I would be thinking of her. She wants prayers of death. She is ready to go. She wanted to pray for me...I just told her that I needed the prayers all moms need. "Being a mom is hard." In more ways than one. And being a friend is hard. Being a human being is hard. Trying to be a good human being is even harder.
Her end of life circumstances are less than great. Her children are fighting around her...getting kicked out, yelling, being yelled at...feeling awful and she gets a front row seat. She is no saint, but I'd expect some to act better. I hope they will. I hope that this gets better. We all want to see our children getting along. And at the end of my life, I hope H and Z will be such wonderful friends.
Death brings out fear, I think. At least I am afraid of it. I gather Idabelle isn't because she is ready to see her heavenly father. She will also see her husband(s). (hope that doesn't get awkward.)
I've always had a strong feeling that I will see my loved ones again. But, I certainly want to stay here as long as possible in order to make sure the girls are going to be okay. That said, I have no faith in long life and am a mess in the passenger seat of the car. I fear accidents. I am a nervous wreck on long car trips. I don't want to be...but what are you going to do? Fear is fear. And I fear it.