I've just recently returned from Dallas, Texas where I was visiting my ailing aunt and aging uncle. These two surrogate grandparents have been very special to me as I grew up and became an adult. I received the call last week that Edna was in her last days and that Kess, my great uncle, was asking if I could come to visit. I immediately got a seat on a plane and was at their house Tuesday this week.

As anyone who has witnessed the gradual passing of a loved one knows, it is amazing what the body can endure before finally calling it quits. Aunt Edna had entered the hospital over two months earlier after a fall that broke her wrist and injured her shoulder. While there, she began having adverse reactions to her treatment. During a colonoscopy, we think she might have had her colon perforated by the doctor. A steady stream of antibiotics ensued, but little healing occurred. After a couple of weeks of feeling horrible and getting worse, Edna was able to communicate her desire to return home to wait out her final days.

When I got to her bedside, she had been unresponsive for over a week. Her son and husband honored her wishes by removing her feeding tubes, her anitbiotics, and we loved ones began our separate pilgrimages to say goodbye. I saw her as a shell of the formerly tough-as-nails woman I'd always known. Her shrunken face and emaciated frame brought tears to my eyes. I spent two nights with her and my Uncle Kess. I held her lifeless hand and stroked her head, kissed her forehead and spoke reassuringly to her. Four hours after I said goodbye and boarded the plane for home, she passed away quietly.

How often have we had a loved one who went into the hospital and became sicker or even died? How effective is our current state of health care at achieving, attaining, or sustaining health? I'm not saying that Edna's death was caused by the hospital. What I am saying is that the time spent in the hospital was plagued by indecision, doubt, pain, and a serious feeling of disempowerment on the part of Edna and her entire attending family. Only when Edna finally decided to return home did she and her family begin to feel a real sense of direction and empowerment.

The angels of hospice provided constant support for Edna, Kess, and the rest of the family. Those workers are underpaid and should have a special place waiting for them when they meet their maker.

I meant to speak with Frank King from King Bio about making a homeopathic specifically designed for these end of life moments. The health picture is so complicated and the needs are quite diverse. But if anyone can develop a remedy for that difficult time, it is he.

I love Edna and Kess. I don't know what Kess will do now that his rock is gone. I know he want to follow her. After sicty-seven years of marriage, who could blame him? Perhaps when he goes, he will pass in his sleep with dreams of his lost loved one in his mind.

If only we all could be that lucky.