I aged ten years today.
A.’s family left yesterday. Said their final goodbyes and left. And now, tonight, everything has changed. She’s hallucinating. Confused. Delirious. Forgetful. Even her voice has changed. In the span of 24 hours, she’s become unrecognizable. I saw the changes this morning as she ate her breakfast. And eventually, it all snowballed into this.
I’m terrified. And alone. Her father and sister are apparently returning. They want to be here for “the end.” And while I’ve always struggled in their company, I welcome their return. In the meantime, I’ve arranged for a home health aide for four hours tomorrow. I might even sign a lease for a new apartment. Once A. is gone, I will spend less than a week in this condo. My real estate agent will handle everything, and I’ll never step foot in this cursed building again.
And so, I kissed her goodnight tonight. And kissed her as if it may be her last goodnight. And I now long for the end. A ceasing of the suffering. A release. Goodbye.