The Silver Lining

There must be something good. There always is.

When the hospice nurse turned to my grandmother and said, there are only hours to count now, all four of her daughters were nearby. The two oldest had been planning a trip home the following morning and quickly canceled their train reservations. The train itself has been a Godsend considering unpredictable winter weather and 60 some year old women who shouldn't be driving on anything resembling ice. The aunts always knew they could come and go regardless of the temperature outside, and the $18 tickets are transferable, rearrangable, and cheaper than gas and tolls. It was easy, and necessary for them to stay.

This had been the first time in a week or two that all four sisters were gathered. My mother had just retired from her stressful job and was spending the majority of her time with my grandparents, staying with Aunt Melanie who, despite being a full time workers, has been their primary care giver for the last umtienth year. Aunt Laurel also doesn't work, hasn't ever I think, but because her life is "jobless" she has created a life of other jobs like babysitting and spending time with her church, and cooking. Aunt Linda is her twin and she works from home. She's taken days off each week to make it out to Rochester even though she and her husband are in the middle of a house remodel. All of the sisters have felt the pull of their normal lives along with the need to be with their mother and father.

So when the nurse told my grandmother, Evelyn, that her husband was about to die, she wasn't alone. And when my grandfather passed, quietly, peacefully, without struggle, he had his family with him. His amazing family. A wife who has never been alone, whom he took care of for 64 years. Who, because of the slowness of his passing, has begun to learn that she can live on her own. Who, because of her children being near, has been able to take time to go home and cry alone. And who, because of the stubbornness inherent in all Zeas, is going to at least try to learn how to make it on her won.

He was going to die. We all will. And when he found out he had a terminal illness he new it would be sooner than later. We had many scares along the way. Times when we found out his air was turned off and he struggled to breathe, times when he couldn't swallow or woke up without any air. He couldn't hold onto things anymore, so little was his oxygen supply, and he fought to retain his mental acuity. So I think he chose when to die.

He chose to die with his wife and daughters by his side. He left them safe and sound with each other. And he knew, because they're such amazing people, that they would be okay without him. Four deep breathes for each daughter and he was gone.