Choosing when to die

is not something most of us will experience and nor would we want to.

There was a death notice in yesterday's paper. It was for someone I knew although not well. She had been "the sister of the wife of a first cousin once removed" and thus not someone I would even count as related to me. P.... was simply someone I had met on a number of occasions at events involving the Senior Cat's cousin.

I sent a message to the son of the Senior Cat's cousin. We are still in touch on an intermittent basis. P... was his aunt of course and I knew he was fond of her. He lives in another state however and they saw one another only rarely.

P... and the Senior Cat were still in occasional touch with one another. She was much younger, the "baby" of her family. Her father was killed during the war and her mother never remarried but continued to run the little family business. The Senior Cat's father stepped in to help on occasion as did others. P..., at six years of age, was too young to comprehend what it all meant then. 

Like her sister she went to work in an office and worked her way up to a responsible position. She married and had children. They eventually flew from the nest. When her husband died she went back to work for a while and spent hours in her garden. She developed one of those adult relationships with another of the Senior Cat's cousins, the brother of her brother-in-law. Both of them seemed content until his sudden death.

Then came the diagnosis of an adult form of leukemia. She went through rounds of treatment but life was no longer of interest to her. Eleven days ago she entered the hospice at one of the hospitals and asked to be allowed to end her life under the legislation this state passed last year.  P... was eighty-six. She had her affairs in order. She knew exactly what she wanted. Life was too much. It was not something of which she wanted any more. 

There are people who will say she was selfish, that she should have gone on to another uncomfortable round of treatment. They will say she should have continued the fight for the sake of her children and grandchildren. 

But my cousin tells me his last visit to her was a happy one. He says she was "content" and even "happy". 

Almost none of us will get to choose the hour of our death but, for those who do, I wonder at them. I cannot comprehend it but I also know that I have no right at all to question such a decision. I do not know if it is "right" or "wrong" to give people the opportunity to make such a decision. All I can do is respect them for making it.