oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood

one of the deleted posts was entitled "aunt ruby lives to die another day". i'll try to craft it a little better this time.

aunt ruby is 90+ years old. she's stubborn, old, cranky, old, forgetful, old, and an amazing person. she's independant, living alone for the past gazillion years. late last night she had a mini-stroke (i don't recall the technical term). it's not her first and it probably won't be her last.

aunt ruby doesn't like people fussing over her. she doesn't like people going to any trouble at all for her. she pays for all her meals on a separate check when my parents take her out to dinner, weekly. she argues vehemently when we offer to take her places, fearing that she'll inconvenience us.

she hates going to the hospital and she doesn't really trust doctors. part of this may be her age.

she's a walking, talking, real-life DNR order. it's hard to say whether this is because she feels she's gotten all there is to get out of life, or because she doesn't want to inconvience the EMTs and doctors that might have to save her. it really could be either one.

aunt ruby is not my aunt, she's my mother's aunt. aunt ruby's sister, my grandmother, is also still alive, but suffers from what amounts to -- but is not, for whatever it's worth -- alzheimer's.

over the past decade, i've had to form an opinion on such things as quality of life, DNRs, ethical aging, and so forth. my grandmother has often said that she's "in god's waiting room" or that she's "ready to go". she can't seem to form new memories. we can -- and often do -- have the same conversation with her 10 times in as many minutes. my mother takes care of both of them. my grandmother now often says that she's the baby and my mother is her mother.

i can sense that both of them are ready to go, and because of this, i don't think i will be sad for them when they do. i can't understand what it's like to be that age, with decaying faculties, fully or almost-fully dependant on others just to make it from day to day. one day, though, if i live long enough, i will understand it.

so in the interim, until i can understand the urge to cease life after having nearly a century of it, i will have to take their word on the subject, and respect their wishes. when they go, i think i won't be sad for them -- not in the same way i was sad for my grandfather or his son (my mother's brother) or his son (my cousin) or my dad's brother and parents, who were all robbed of life at early ages.

aunt ruby could probably live well into her hundreds, but i don't think she wants to. when she goes, it may well be by choice, a choice that is not extended to many -- certainly not to many of my relatives. choosing to die at my age, in my good health, is selfish and sad. choosing at aunt ruby's age and health is quite another thing.

i'm glad she decided to remain with us for a bit longer. and when -- if -- she chooses otherwise, i can be glad that she had that choice, and not begrudge her that decision which -- thankfully -- i cannot now understand.