The place you go do die. That’s what she called it. That’s what she said. Was she ready? Is anyone ever, really? She had no choice. It was what was happening. The train was rolling. There was no stopping. My heart hurt. She was so brave. So much dignity and so much grace.
My mind just knows when it’s close. I always feel different. I always feel less settled and sometimes agitated. Funny, the internal clock. The ticking. The tocking. It always lets me know.
January 16 is the day. She was only 50. Way too young.
Sub Acute Care Center. That is what it’s called. That is what she called “the place you go to die.” Never getting out. Never coming back. The slap in the face realization of what is to come. No future to come.
Christmas in the hospital is never fun for anyone. She kept her spirits up. She was a strong, strong woman. Those days are a blur, yet the end is like it was yesterday. Gathered around her bed in the room. The room at the place you go to die. Watching her gracefully slip away.
Continue to rest in peace Sandy.