I'm sorry. This is nature taking it's course. We could take him to the ICU, put him on oxygen and other life support, but that won't improve his condition in any lasting way.
(cont)
Here, family members usually have a change of expression that makes me think they are trying to understand what I'm saying.
All we can do, all you can do, is be with him, and let him know he is loved. If you have something to tell him, now is the time.
I'm very sorry.
Then I quietly leave.
Today, she came to me to announce that my father said he doesn't feel like eating any more, ever.
No sugar here. No vinegar either. Facts. Just the facts.
My reply?
"Mom, he's dying. Did you remember the list I gave you?"
She had asked for a list of the signs of dying. Of course, she was hoping I was mistaken.
I explained, "Lack of appetite and weight loss is a key sign. The metabolism is slowing down. The body doesn't require the fuel or nutrients it needed before. ..."
(cont)
She paused to think about that, started to walk away, then hesistated
(cont)
(cont)
"Yes, we all die and it's true that we are all equal in death. But we are not all equal in dying. Dad is very fortunate. He is not in pain. He's had a full life. He knows he's had a full life. He is with the person he loves and she is with him."
All the same, I wanted to explain why I've been away. I didn't want to appear as appealing for sympathy.
I honestly don't need empathy or sympathy. He's had a great life and he's having one of best of all possible dyings.
That's what I try to do, plus a little "fix" the DVD, "fix" the email, find the eyeglasses/cane/book/magazine.
Death can be lonely and cold. Death can be touching and beautiful. This I believe.