Saturday, January 3, 2009

AV: These Boots Are Made For Walking

Aida has asked for boots. Nice handcrafted cowboy boots from the small shop in Golden Hill near The Big Kitchen. She has been talking about them a lot over the last few days.

The only problem is that she isn't doing any walking these days. In fact, I don't think that she's left the hospital bed provided by the good people of San Diego Hospice at all since Thanksgiving. Even that was difficult, although the trip to her parents' house in Oceanside to spend a few hours with the whole family was worth it. Mostly. The excursion exhausted her for two days. Since then she has only left our bedroom for Christmas, which was held at her sister's house. It was a mixed bag. Family surrounded her -- as did an unfamiliar room. She found peace again once we returned home.

The last weeks have seen a steady stream of visitors. Family, friends. Hospice workers (such wonderful people!!). And love. Such love. You can't imagine. Really.

The last few days she has announced to all who come, "I'm dying. It's so odd. But there it is. I didn't think it would happen to me, but I guess it is. Curious." She speaks clearly about the work there is to do, and yet allows sometimes for the possibility that all that is left is to "relax into it." And at others she is adamant that she isn't going anywhere, thank you, and who the heck are they talking about that is supposed to be dying. Not her. No Ma'am. Uh uh.

And the incredible thing about this journey is that at each stage I am given the inestimable gift of her company in a way that allows me to get kind of used to the idea of where we are. And maybe a little bit of where we're going. Each day frightens me to my core. I don't know what will happen. I am terrified that whatever change that may occur is the one that will shake me apart. And yet. And yet, when the terrifying changes happen, we manage it. And the conversations of the most recent days together have allowed us both to ponder. To wonder. To acknowledge the ridiculousness and craziness of it all. Because make no mistake about it, it IS most certainly crazy. Just plain wrong. But still, we are coming to understand it together.

While talking the other day, she said to me that being brave was not necessary.
"Don't be brave. Just be worthy of all of your accomplishments here."

She is marvelous, ladies and gentlemen. She is the most extraordinary human being I have ever met. Beyond all that pap about snowflakes and uniqueness, because while that is true, it is truer for Aida than for anyone else. I have never ever met anyone like her and I am pretty certain that she is the only one there is. Or ever has been. She is amazing. She is Aida.

http://www.carepages.com/carepages/Aida



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful. Simply beautiful. Much love, Rodney