Last night I went up to see my aunt after my music lesson. She had already been tucked into bed so I didn’t stay long. Lately she hasn’t been doing too well. Her bones are fragile and one of them collapsed, as vertebrae in a osteoporotic women tend to do. So for awhile she has been in pain and on bed rest just getting up into the wheelchair to go to meals, etc.
Last night when I walked in, she commented that it was Monday, and how was the service at church. That comment was a good sign that she was feeling better. Two days before she was confused about who I was.
She misses getting out. It has been a constant in her life up to now.
Last night she was also lamenting that she had no gifts to give, nothing to wrap, nothing to give away for Christmas. She has given so much away all her life – another part of her that she can no longer sustain.
I am hoping she will be well enough to get out for Christmas. She is tiny and light enough that any of my boys could just pick her up and carry her so we will make every effort for her to spend Christmas Eve with us.
In watching her, I wonder – what will my last days be like? Will my friends be around? Will I be visited? Will I even know? What will be left of who I am? How much of who we are is wrapped up in the functioning of our brains?