Death and Dying and the Frailties of Life
I went to my friend Rochelle's funeral today. She died after being in the hospital for two months, 3 months after it was found that the cancer had metastasized to her brain. I wrote about her earlier......the news about the tumor in her brain was so difficult for me to take......well, now she's dead. Dead and buried.
I've mentioned before that she was a difficult woman, apparently, even in the best of times. But one thing that can be said about her was that she was the best mother to her two children. Not the "best mother given the circumstances", but the best mother, period. I saw it myself.
So why did her horrible husband, Jeff Marks, and her uber horrible in-laws make the last two years of her life so miserable? Why did they treat her so terribly during the last two weeks of her life? Why did they deny her the opportunity to talk to her babies as she lay in the hospital dying? They kept on hanging up the telephone when she'd call and beg to speak to her children. Even when Jeff knew that she was going for the morphine drip and would be dead in two days, even then he would not bring the children to the hospital. It took a court order for her to see her children in the last hours of her life. Imagine that. A court order. To see her own children. As she lay dying. I believe there is a special place in hell for people like that.
At the funeral, while everyone extolled Rochelle's devotion to her children, no one mentioned Jeff's name, or indeed, acknowledged his or his family's presence. No condolences were extended to him. Nothing. Only to her father and her brother and, of course, to her children. Jeff, meanwhile, wore a smirk through the whole memorial service and then later through the burial. Rochelle's friends wanted to spit on him. I wanted to go up to him and say, Are you happy now, Jeff? You won. Rochelle's dead. You have the children. Are you happy that you made this poor woman's last few conscious moments so miserable, so filled with anger? If Jeff hadn't fought with her, if he had extended the least bit of compassion, maybe Rochelle could have had a few more months or years to live, to spend with her children. Instead, she spent the last two years of her life fighting him, fighting his horrible family, fighting to spend hours and moments with her 2 year old and 4 year old, fighting to live. Her immune system was shot.....the cancer travelled everywhere in her body, and eventually made its way to her brain.
And what of me? Why could I not have been a better friend? Why was I not with her during her last few weeks?
I've mentioned before that she was a difficult woman, apparently, even in the best of times. But one thing that can be said about her was that she was the best mother to her two children. Not the "best mother given the circumstances", but the best mother, period. I saw it myself.
So why did her horrible husband, Jeff Marks, and her uber horrible in-laws make the last two years of her life so miserable? Why did they treat her so terribly during the last two weeks of her life? Why did they deny her the opportunity to talk to her babies as she lay in the hospital dying? They kept on hanging up the telephone when she'd call and beg to speak to her children. Even when Jeff knew that she was going for the morphine drip and would be dead in two days, even then he would not bring the children to the hospital. It took a court order for her to see her children in the last hours of her life. Imagine that. A court order. To see her own children. As she lay dying. I believe there is a special place in hell for people like that.
At the funeral, while everyone extolled Rochelle's devotion to her children, no one mentioned Jeff's name, or indeed, acknowledged his or his family's presence. No condolences were extended to him. Nothing. Only to her father and her brother and, of course, to her children. Jeff, meanwhile, wore a smirk through the whole memorial service and then later through the burial. Rochelle's friends wanted to spit on him. I wanted to go up to him and say, Are you happy now, Jeff? You won. Rochelle's dead. You have the children. Are you happy that you made this poor woman's last few conscious moments so miserable, so filled with anger? If Jeff hadn't fought with her, if he had extended the least bit of compassion, maybe Rochelle could have had a few more months or years to live, to spend with her children. Instead, she spent the last two years of her life fighting him, fighting his horrible family, fighting to spend hours and moments with her 2 year old and 4 year old, fighting to live. Her immune system was shot.....the cancer travelled everywhere in her body, and eventually made its way to her brain.
And what of me? Why could I not have been a better friend? Why was I not with her during her last few weeks?
posted by knutty4knitting @ 11:32 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home