When it came time to decide whether to let her go on suffering or to euthanize her, I took the latter. She approached it as if it were another adventure, sitting proud and accepting, ready for whatever would come. Of course she couldn’t have known.
I held her in my arms as the drug took effect and stayed with her far past the time life had ebbed, never forgetting her face in the moments after, that golden beauty, that love of my life. Of course, one never forgets a thing like this … and it is even harder to forgive.
I knew that she would suffer no more. I knew that she was peaceful and without pain in the moment of death, but the pain in my heart lingers still, for there is no closure where love is concerned.
My mother died almost two years ago in June 2012 peacefully in her sleep from lung cancer after much suffering. She wanted her body donated to science, so that whatever remained of her in a long life would possibly be used to make another person’s life easier.
I never wanted to hear about it even though I knew that this was her choice. The thought of this woman, my mother, in any other way but whole … playing her piano, dancing in the living room to her music, her free-spirited and realistic view of life … was unfathomable. I prefer to think of her, as my emerald-eyed cat, observing, in spirit from afar, this troubled planet with that unforgettable look of knowing. I will miss them both.