As if one needed a reminder during the fall of decaying leaves, short days, and overcast weather, I have been with death and dying these last few days.
On Monday, the young woman up the street died overnight.
On Tuesday, I comforted a friend as she heard from the facility where her husband lives and decided that it was time to enroll him in hospice, eschewing all measures beyond palliative ones.
And today, I tied knots in a fleece blanket with my own hospice patient. For two hours!!! And we chatted the whole time.
Thursday is the wake for the young woman; Friday, the funeral. I plan to go to at least one if not also the other.
That's everyday this week.
And I've realized a few things for myself. The dying of strangers is easier to witness and companion for me; the death and dying of friends, or even just acquaintances, is more emotionally fraught. The expected dying of a person, for me, is easier than the sudden. The old easier than the young. And, of course, death and dying are as close and nearby as life and living and I'm becoming more and more comfortable and accepting of that.
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