Death gets in the way

I'd planned to keep going daily with this blog once I restarted it a few weeks ago, but certain events got in the way. The major one was the declining health of my beloved mother-in-law who had gone into the hospital for a surgical procedure, followed by a period of rehabilitation. She seemed to be improving, and then things turned worse. A few days later, she died. Naturally, those who cared about her and loved her were stunned by the sudden change, and it opened a wound for me which involved a similar circumstance of my own mother's unexpected death a decade ago. I thought I could write about it, as I know that death is the ultimate end where we are all headed, even if there is an afterlife or reincarnation, both ideas I entertain. Even raised as a Christian, more specifically, the daughter of an Episcopal priest, I always considered the afterlife and have never really been afraid of my own death. I did worry about the deaths of those I loved, and still do, but while I thought for many years I would never survive without my parents, I discovered that I have been able to do so. My father had died several years ago close to the date of my mother-in-law, so naturally, that, too, caused a swelling of grief.

My father struggled with Alzheimer's Disease (or maybe it was those of us in the family who watched his slow decline who struggled) for about fifteen years. By the time he was in the end stages of the disease, he also had developed a cancerous growth on his lip. I remember the consult with his physician that my brother (older and only sibling) and I had. In the end, it was decided to not treat the tumor and let my father go. By that time, my brother had already begun to view our father as deceased, but even though recognition of us was seemingly impossible by our father, I still could not absorb the impact fully. It's been written in several books related to the process of grief (though some object to that word "process") that the "slow death" of a loved one gives a sense of resolution to the idea of death which doesn't happen with the unexpected death. It's hard to say, having experienced both types of deaths with my parents, which was harder.

But now, my husband and his sisters are all dealing with those things that usually follow the deaths of parents, their father having died eighteen years ago, another unexpected event, and I think we are all aware of how it feels to be as one writer titled it "An Adult Orphan."