I missed the "Don's Death" anniversary post. What can I say, except we can't believe it's been a year? We can't believe how strong we've become? We can't imagine going through that again?
Hospice house is the worst place in the world. It's terrible, oppressive and pretty much hell. I am glad it exists and I understand the need and glad they could find a place that would take care of him.
Cancer is exhausting and painful. It gives you time to process the death, but none of the cliche things they say about cancer are true. It's all a bunch of bullshit, at least it was in this case. Maybe it's easier for some people and each death is different. I'm glad I got to witness it as a younger age, because it helps me make plans for my parents and it helps me to know what can and can't happen in the health care system.
One year or so ago, we sat, after the funeral, after the wake, after the burial, and watched TV, because Don had every single cable package ever. True Blood marathon was on. People would call the house in the morning, early, early, early, and I would curse them. "Don't they know there has been a death? None of us can answer the phone this early!"
And all of us just wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep and forget that in the middle of this sunny day, there was something really terrible happening.
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