I returned home from a Writing Mamas Salon to my daughter hugging my leg and my husband telling me that his mother could not be reached by phone.

Bad feeling.

It reminded me of when we couldn't reach my aunt on the phone. She lived in Brooklyn, I was in California, one sister was in Chicago and the other in Connecticut. My cousin and I had given the super of my aunt's building some money to keep an eye on her. I told my sister in Connecticut not to drive to New York. I'd phone the super instead. I said if anything happened to my aunt, do not send her to Coney Island Hospital. It is where my uncle had passed away, mainly from laying on a gurney in the hospital's corridors for hours unattended. The super sent my aunt away in another ambulance to another hospital. She had a massive stroke.

Tonight my sister-in-law, Pat, went to check on my mother-in-law, Polly. She found her on the floor, unable to move. An ambulance came and brought her to the hospital. A major stroke, too. My husband left as soon as I came home.

A little over a month ago my father died. Less than a year ago my brother-in-law did. When I had to break the news to my husband I said, "I don't know if you're mom will last the year." He stared at the floor. The news of his younger brother's passing too unbelievable to be real. "I know," he said with quiet understanding and sadness.

I can't say what will happen. My aunt lasted a few weeks in the hospital. She was ready to go. When she said she was, as much as I loved and adored her, I wanted this for her, too. 

I don't know what will happen to my mother-in-law.  The decline in her health since her son's death has been astounding. I think she's ready. 

We're all living to die and most of us are dying to live. But for some, like my aunt, and I believe my mother-in-law, a lesser quality of life isn't one worth living. It's just too hard. And they are too good for such harshness to come at the end of their lives, precisely, when they are least able to fight.

However it turns out, I hope her suffering is minor. She is well loved. Most of her family was with her on Saturday before this happened. When her time comes, I hope it is painless and fast. Such a good person deserves as much.

By Dawn Yun