He died a week before turning 80, with his mind intact but his body failing in so many ways. Dad said he wasn't dying but I didn't believe him. He certainly didn't want to live the way he was living, and so he did the only thing he could - he stopped eating. He wouldn't talk about any of it with anyone. Not his wife of so many years, not his daughters, and we think not even his therapists (or at least they never told us).
What did I learn? That it doesn't help to not talk about your personal issues, because we can't help if we don't know what's really going on.
And that no one should die alone and uncomforted in the middle of the night, because they didn't believe in their own mortality.
|My Dad and Mom circa 1949. |
Photo might have been taken at their engagement party.