These months ahead marks our family's long march of remembering. This is the time when we knew Joe was dying and we held on to every word, every breath, every visit from this day forward. We were, as my grandmother would say, "at the bottom of the barrel".
We "circled the wagons" for the toughest fight of our lives, the battle of holding on tight to life and letting go, knowing that this day may be our last conversation. Heading straight on to death is unsettling, disturbing and brave. The ability to have the chance to talk is a gift, but the road to deterioration is heartbreaking. Joe was with us until the last six weeks, which at that point he slipped into a drug induced state to control his pain. His body was here but his mind was gone. When looking back from the time of his last recurrence to his death we only had about two months of Joe. And then he slipped away.
But he knew we were by his side and never alone. And that made his death graceful.
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