Catching up on all the bad news

Because of the Christmas festivities, I was able to forget the huge sadness of the previous month. A family I have been close to for many years lost their son/grandson to a drug overdose.

My heart broke at the news a dear friend’s grandson had separated from his wife and young family.

I was disappointed to learn my oldest daughter could not fly here for the holidays because her passport had expired and, because she suffers from severe anxiety and depression, the trip preparations proved too much for her. Hopefully, she will be here for Easter.

Early in the New Year, my Seattle cousin wrote me following the death of her daughter. I had already been informed Lane died of suicide in her mid-20s.

The letter her mother wrote me following her death is the saddest I have ever received in my life. I carry it in my purse, but cannot bring myself to unfold it and read it out again.

In California, my dear brother’s lady, Kalene, went to the doctor for a cough syrup prescription.

She had been ill with a cold but between medical plans or professionals so was slow to make the appointment.

When she was seen at the Kaiser Foundation, litres of fluid were removed from her lungs. After a bevy of tests and examinations it was announced she is in Stage 3 lung cancer and was immediately scheduled for chemotherapy and a heartbreaking prognosis.

The shock is still raw; Kalene was extremely healthy, never smoked and packed more vitality into a week than I do in a month.

I have the date of her next session on my calendar. And her name is in my prayer bowl.

I had not heard from my brother at Christmas, so I knew something was “off.” His voice sounds so sad and hurt, I can only try to respect the request for time to process all the information and get on with the treatments and hopefully a cure.

Now it is still winter, with grey skies, falling snow and our lake almost hidden from view by the low clouds.

I see the hard, dirty snowbank that still remains in the back yard as symbolic of what I have felt in the months since November.

I only now appreciate how all the sadness of recent weeks has piled up on me.

I cried at a recent call from my Colorado cousin. She had to suddenly cancel plans to visit me here because her younger brother, Alan, had died in Florida.

I remember Alan as a beautiful goldenhaired toddler. Now he is gone.

So the accumulation of all the snow and all the sadness has hit me hard. Because I am housebound with the dreaded flu bug I have had time to reflect on the relentless hits I have taken since last fall.

No wonder I am short of breath, without energy and constantly on the lookout for a place to sit down.

No wonder I feel like I am running out of gas. I am running out of gas.

Anyone in their 80s will tell you the aging process and nearing life’s end is not a pretty sight.

l know I upset my doctor when I suggested I would appreciate his help at the end to die assisted.

I must raise this issue again, but gently and to his liking. I just dread the thought of being confined to a bed with a feeding tube, IV transfusions and catheters emitting from my heart, my urethra, and my poor old varicose veins.

Hopefully, my doctor and I can come up with a plan that leaves me at the end in a new outfit in my own bed. We will see.

Too sad? Too much information? Here is a McGuinness recipe to lift our spirits even in the month of March. To your next glass of milk, add an ounce of Peppermint Schnapps and an ounce of Kahlua. You will feel lighter right away.

And on a lighter note, I almost picked up a distressed wood accessory for our entertainment room in a gift shop recently.

It read “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to come.”

I gathered my resolve and moved along but I smiled to think the human spirit really is indomitable. Aren’t we humans remarkable? Even in our darkest hours we can still make plans, play bridge and carry on loving deeply.

Jeanette Dunagan has lived in Kelowna for more than 40 years. Email her at jd2399@telus.net.