My stepfather's mother was already lost to Alzheimer's when my parents met. She was put in a nursing home shortly after they married and that's where she stayed. For 15 years. Slowly decomposing because her husband, Shorty, could not allow her to die a peaceful death. She was unable to recognize Bruce the first time I met her, had no idea who her granddaughters were and certain wasn't going to understand, let along remember, who I was. I can't even tell you how much I resented, as a child, being forced to go visit this stranger in a nursing home, who couldn't speak, couldn't respond in any way, and probably wasn't aware that anyone was there at all. As an adult, I can understand that it was to support Bruce, but you know what, I'm pretty sure he resented being there just as much. Resented the fact that his mother was being forced alive, and it was force. Extraordinary measure after extraordinary measure used to force life back into this empty shell that once was a woman.
hunh.
I guess that's where I learned to deal with death. Because NOTHING will give you a clearer understanding that sometimes, death really is preferable. Death can be a gift, a friend, a welcome respite. I don't fear death half so much as I fear what happened to that poor woman. To this day I sincerely hope that there truly was nothing left of her consciousness, because the thought that even a fraction of awareness of her situation existed is beyond horrifying.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2011-01-28 01:52 am (UTC)hunh.
I guess that's where I learned to deal with death. Because NOTHING will give you a clearer understanding that sometimes, death really is preferable. Death can be a gift, a friend, a welcome respite. I don't fear death half so much as I fear what happened to that poor woman. To this day I sincerely hope that there truly was nothing left of her consciousness, because the thought that even a fraction of awareness of her situation existed is beyond horrifying.