For some the end of life’s journey is sudden. Are they the fortunate few? Or is the gradual drift toward the other side, the almost unnoticeable minute lessening of one’s grasp on life . . . occurring slowly, the better way to cross over and begin the new journey?
Though an octogenarian, Cappy greeted each day with joy and laughter. “I just like living!’ she would say often. Her most frequent visitor to Evergreen Lodge, her assisted living home, was her second oldest son, Gib. He shared wit and humor with his mother until her last day when, with enthusiasm, she announced that she was going on a trip.
Gib asked, “Are you walking or flying?”
She said, “I don’t know!”
Three hours later she was gone. Those last months of her life were happy times for Gib, Cappy’s daughter Jo, daughter-in-law Marilyn and other loved ones who shared the wit and humor of this remarkable woman’s last days.
An in-depth and sensitive portrayal of a graceful crossing over.
January 31st, 2004
Cappy’s granddaughter, Kari, visited her on this last Saturday in January. Kari is a paralegal for the City of Olympia, forty miles south of Evergreen Lodge and visits her ‘Nana’ whenever she can. They spent a couple of hours catching up on things before Kari took her leave.
Kari, nice granddaughter that she is, left a check to pay for Cappy’s next two visits to Evergreen Lodge’s own hair stylist, Carol.
February 1st, 2004
Cappy is on the bed resting when Gib and Marilyn arrive. Seems that Santa has made a late delivery. New clothes for Cappy apparently purchased by Jo. So now Cappy can adhere to the two w’s…whim and weather.
Cappy and I spent some time talking about her number three son, Harvey, and his ability to stay behind the veil, living a secret existence that only he and the CIA fully understand.
Did the bulletin board fall down?
Cappy’s most frequent visitors? Me, the ubiquitous Gib, her daughter, the semi- ubiquitous Jo, and, on this day, the femme fatale, the translucent but dazzling Marilyn who is most willing to accommodate us with a smile and a bit of conversation and then…exhausted…falls asleep. I notice that the almost ninety year old Cappy is also snoozing.
I slip out and descend to chat with a couple of the residents in the activities room.