Dear Aunt Alice died on December 23rd, following a rapid two-week decline.
Alice Hilda Hart
1908-2005
Before you continue here, please read Pat's reminiscence about Alice.
Pat and Alice before a flight in Hayward - Alice enjoyed flying with us.
I first met Alice around twenty years ago, when she was only in her mid-seventies. She used to visit us once or twice a year, and at first I wasn't very close to her. I wasn't very close to anyone, for that matter, and one of the things I am grateful to Alice for is that through my time with her I learned to appreciate people more, and to have compassion for others. Over time, we became very close, and genuinely enjoyed and appreciated each other.
She was a gentle soul, and had a lovely sense of humor that allowed us to tease her mercilessly. She never took offense at our crude jokes, as she didn't take herself very seriously. She enjoyed the attention, and her little chagrined chuckle when she saw that she was once again the victim of our outlandish teasing was girlish and endearing.
We set Alice up for this photo - she gave up smoking forty years earlier, and never drank while I knew her.
Alice eventually began spending several months a year living with us at the house in Hayward that she helped us buy through her years of savings for Patrick. She loved to spend time with the two dogs, Lucky and Mummadog, and they loved being around her.
Until the last few years, she cooked occasional meals for us, and baked birthday cakes.
She did our laundry, and mended things that needed it. Usually she insisted on doing dinner dishes. These things made us feel really cared for. No button has been replaced here since her last visit.
The last time Alice was here, we had to get a wheelchair for the trip from the airline gate to the parking garage for the drive home. Then, several years ago, Alice declined physically and mentally to the point where it was no longer practical for her to come out and visit us any more. Pat went to Florida and found her a wonderful assisted living facility where she could enjoy independence and her own apartment, but additional services and care when it became needed. He moved her there from her old isolated apartment. At that time, he also sold her car - an event that she almost never failed to lament during our calls. Although it was inconceivable to us that Alice could still safely operate a car, for her it was a place to aggregate all her disappointments about loss of independence. In her mind, the only reason she was immobile and limited was the lack of an automobile.
We chatted with her on the phone regularly, and Pat found opportunities to visit her in Florida. I visited her once there several years ago, and was alarmed at her weakness and ill health. After my visit, she regained some strength, and the close call reminded us to make the most of our calls and time with her.
Alice's confusion was minor, mostly a result of her deteriorating short-term memory. As she moved things around her rooms and then promptly forgot about her actions, she would come up with elaborate alternate explanations for the changes in her environment that seemed quite dotty to others. None of this diminished her pleasure at hearing from us though, or her ability to laugh gently at our continued teasing.
With Alice's decline these past weeks, we were grateful for the kindness, competency, and compassion of various people in Florida who knew what to do and when and how to do it. She had pretty good care, and while it was painful not to be there, I think she had the best of what anyone could offer as she decided it was time to drift away, and finally left us. I do regret not encouraging Alice more to just find peace with her decision to consider leaving us - I could not stop talking about hope for a different outcome. I hope if I am ever again there for someone who is near the time of dying, I will have the wisdom to help them accept with peace and without doubt or fear this event that we must all face. I know the hospice nurses did do this for Alice though, and am doubly grateful for that.
I ran across a Buddhist discussion a few days ago which made me realize that once again Alice has contributed to my understanding of life, even as her own time in this life came to an end...
When we finally know we are dying, and all other sentient beings are dying with us, we start to have a burning, almost heartbreaking sense of the fragility and preciousness of each moment and each being, and from this can grow a deep, clear, limitless compassion for all beings.
Thank you Alice, for being such a precious part of our lives. I hope we brought you some comfort and joy, and I thank you for helping me wake up to what is good in this life. The extra kindness and attention I will try to give to others will be a living testament to your gentle goodness.
Goodbye Auntie Alice.
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