Word went round today that Hospice has been called in for one of my favorite ladies. Now, she's 97 and fought her way back after an infection so she could come home to die. At a certain age, it should be easy to say, "She's lived a good life," and let them go. So why is it so hard?
I have all the beliefs I need to know why it's good for her to move on, and I know her husband is right there holding the door. I will miss that smile, and the twinkle in her eye that only 97 years of love can bring. And I'll miss the love she offers with a gentle look. Thank goodness love doesn't fade away.
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