When I was 9, my first great grandmother died. She was in her late 80s and had suffered a major stroke in her 30s that paralyzed the entire left half of her body and fusing together part of her eyelid..This left her in pain.
But still, she never complained, still drew pleasure in the same things she always did, lived every moment of her life until she died in surgery. She would have done anything for an extra day.
But the one that died on this october day, has been wishing to die since I was 8. The on;y thing I remember from my child hood other than her letting me play her keyboard was her telling me how she wishes she was dead. As I grew older, I became disgusted in this. How could this proclaimed God lover disvalue her life so much? There wasn't anything severely wrong with her, the usual vision and hearing imperfection that comes with old age...she acted like she was in constant pain
So I figured, hell, something is keeping her alive until she can learn to appreciate the damn life she's been given...but then she just got too hard to care for, got sent to a home, and generally resorted to being a horrible person to the nurses but refusing to take meds and verbally assaulting them.
Sounds funny, but it's really not if you heard how much this woman hypocritically preached god.
So yesterday I guess she put up a fight, fell, broke her hip and this morning during some hours of asking for pain killers, she died...and I don't know whether to be happy she got what she wanted, sad that she's gone, or angry that she died with so much hate for the life she had,