Inevitably, the toll continues, of course. The most recent death and hospice enrollee listed are brother and sister; there is a hereditary disease in their family’s history, and so the events were expected. Until their mother died a few years ago, her children’s conditions were somehow theoretical in my mind.
I have omitted from the list other losses that include my beloved academic advisor for my second major, my last three semesters of college.
I have completed the 13 months of bereavement counseling that I began a month or so after my father’s death. These deaths are/have been painful, but over time, these losses can be coped with.
What disturbs me more is the perception I have of an increase in hopelessness around me and in the larger world. The growing realization that not all of the current problems can be dealt with at all. In too many instances, there are no longer probable, known paths to survivable resolution. Some situations, having possible long-term solutions, see fewer possibilities for interim goals moving toward a future.
As a result, I find myself feeling grief in smaller, local situations that I cannot address in any meaningful way. I do not like problems that cannot be solved.
- 26 October 2016, Aunt Dorothy, Mother’s sister (98 yrs)
- 15 November 2016, Mother (94 yrs)
- 26 February 2017, Dad (100 yrs)
- 17 May 2017, Uncle Wayne, Dad’s brother (77 yrs)
- 20 July 2017, Uncle Jim, Mother’s brother-in-law (93 yrs)
- 31 July 2017, Uncle Albert, Dad’s brother (95 yrs)
- 5 September 2017, Aunt Marion, Dad’s sister (88 yrs)
- 30 October 2017, Aunt Esther, Dad’s sister (82 years)
- 6 December 2017, Nora Kathleen, Aunt Marion’s daughter (60 years)
- 9 December 2017, Don, Al’s uncle (91 years)
- 20 April 2018, Norma, Al’s aunt (100 years)
- 16 May 2018, Jean, 1st cousin once removed (90 years)
- 21 May 2018, Mark, a brother of my youngest brother’s wife
- An in-law, who is dying, entered hospice care, earlier this week.