She’s gone. My Aunt passed away, early this morning in her sleep, surrounded by loved ones. She had been on hospice merely a few weeks. And the first thing that popped into my head about her death was how proud I am of her. She was an elegant lady in life (and beautiful), and chose to spend the last part of her life in an equally elegant way. She chose hospice. No extraordinary, painful, invasive, sickness-inducing medical interventions. Elegance to the end.
I was wondering if I could connect with her spirit, and as I was walking down the driveway, I had a conversation in my head with her. It’s that simple. And a while later, I was sitting at my computer, occasionally gazing out the window at the snow, gently falling, and my thoughts once again, turned to my Aunt. She told me to tell her husband that she loves him. I mentioned that he knows she loved him. And she said to be sure to tell him that she loves him still. So he gets the message that she’s still here and her love is still here, and will always be here. That did it. The dam burst. I was a mess of tears. I’ll write him a letter.
She passed away in the manner that I think most of us aspire to: with comfort and peace, surrounded by ones we love.