L. and me, on our canes, after our then recent surgeries.
My dear friend, L., is on her last days. I'll be going up tomorrow for my bi-weekly trip, but it will be very different this time. She has taken no food for 5 days, and no liquids for 3, according to her youngest son. The news, while expected, is shocking to me. She is the come-back kid. She is unconscious now, no awareness even when she is cleaned and moved about.
I'm on the edge of tears, and yet. It is her release, her freedom, and I am glad for that. I just want to be with her, my 88 year old friend, my psuedo-mom, the woman who saved me from insanity many a time, the woman who has maintained the social graces even in her recent dementia.
Oh, the tears have come.
Post script: our sweet angel is gone - finally left that awful bed she's been trapped in for 6 months. She died at 10:35 this morning and I received a phone call from her son shortly thereafter. I'll stay put - no need to drive up there. Her spirit is everywhere now.
