My instincts tell me not to write this. I don't want to be maudlin nor do I want to appear insensitive but we are waiting on death. My Aunt Dot is dying; her transition will be any day now. She has squared off with the monster for the last time, and now she is going to a place where there is no indignity or pain.
She has buried two of her own children. Now it is her turn.
In one of our many frank discussions, I asked Aunt Dot if she thought she would see her kids or my grandparents (her parents) when she died. She said she's not sure but she hopes so. We speculated about that possibility, and what the Bible says about dying. We talked about God and Heaven. She told me that if she does get to see and recognize people up there, she'll find a way to let me know. She said she would send me a sign and I would know what it was about.
The spunk this resilient lady displayed throughout her life is inspirational. Her matter-of-fact way of living, and now dying, is uniquely Aunt Dot.
I will not be able to write about her again, not anytime soon. My heart is heavy. Waiting on death is a terrible thing. Instead, we will celebrate her life--now and always.
|Aunt Dot recently became a great-grandmother. The circle of life.|
This post is in participation with the Group Blogging Experience, and this week’s prompt is instinct. This is the best I could do under the circumstances. If you want to blog with us, go to the GBE2 Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome.