The Circle of Life

e with Aunt A -- taken about a month and a half ago.

My aunt is on her deathbed. All of her children (except for one, and I can't figure that one out) have gathered for the vigil. She has been slowly withering away in the Hospice ward in the hospital for about five days now. She can no longer talk and just slowly goes downhill every day.

She is the last one of her generation. It's always weird to see an entire generation die. My dad (her brother) passed away six years ago. I was three months pregnant with my first child and he didn't even know. It was a very emotional time for me. One of their sisters died just before dad, from cancer. She had fought it for many years and just decided it wasn't worth the fight anymore. I think she was probably in her mid to late 70s. Dad was 88 so he lived a good life. Always healthy right up to the end. He had a brother who died probably in his 60s and my aunt, who is now in the hospital, just turned 84 a few days ago. Not the greatest way to spend a birthday, but at least she hit it.

In just less than two weeks, it will be 11 years since my mom passed away. Watching her die was, by far, the most painful thing that has ever happened in my life. She fought diabetes and heart disease for so many years. In the end, we took turns taking care of her, bathing her, feeding her, helping her go to the bathroom. It just really sucks getting old. Eleven years later and I still think of her pretty much every day. I still want to pick up the phone and call her...tell her about what the kids are doing...tell her about my day...tell her how much I love her. When she died, she was the last of her generation, too. No more of her brothers and sisters around.

Aunt A. (the one in the hospital) was always one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Even after five kids, she had a beautiful figure. In her old photo albums, I see her on her safaris in Africa...she looks just like a young Katherine Hepburn, but even more beautiful. Even as she age, she was one of the most beautiful women. I always wondered why she didn't go into modeling or something like that. I will always remember her that way and the wonderful things we did together.

When she was younger, my father gave her a book for her tenth birthday. Inside, he wrote her a poem. She has since framed the book (so we can't tell what book it is) to have the poem as a keepsake. Here is the poem (I believe my dad was 20 at the time):

9/27/1935
To A on her 10th birthday. From S.

To A in rounding out half a score:

From now till when
You are three-score-and-ten,
May this book's light
Guide your steps right;
For after the biblical three-score-and-ten,
You'll be what is known as "just an old hen."
And though surrounded by wine, men, and song,
If you stood on your ear, you couldn't do wrong.
The moral of this pretty ditty
Is live and laugh; be gay, be witty.
So that when your life is claimed by the reaper,
Every friend will be a weeper -
Weeping not because you are dead -
But ended is the pleasant life you led.

As I have written this, apparently she has passed away. Earlier this morning with some family by her side.