Once in my life I gave my consent for someone to die. I look back now at how much support, understanding, time, and love we were surrounded in and I am grateful. I hope to never need to give my consent again.
I look at some of my favorite people and I know that they are not being clear about their end of life wishes, that they assume those who love them will rally to the moment and not ask for more time. They hope that it will be obvious and clear that the time has come and that shock, fear, sorrow, and regret will not cloud anyone’s thinking.
Not many of them know about the chaplain who saw me look up to the acoustic tiles when I said, “I’m ready to wake up now”. Nobody was in the room with me the first time when the chaplain (mercy, poor man) said that they expected my husband to die.
I wonder if it is the same for everyone, but for me hearing that from the chaplain (12 years and 1 day ago) made clear to me that we all get to die. We all get to have that experience on some random day that we cannot predict. For as little control as I will have – I have this — I will die without regret.
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