The Impatience of the Living 1

The Impatience of the Living
(August 1991)

My father died at 79 last May, after a fairly rapid decline. The diagnosis was Binswanger's disease, or hardening of the arteries of the brain.

Had you asked my mother, however, and the fire would kindle in her eyes. "I was a widow for three years before he died," she'd say. "He just gave up!" For her the three years were anything but rapid or fair. She nursed him through the first two, but when his falls became a matter for the EMS, the hospital refused to give him back. She spent the year of their 50th anniversary visiting him at the county health center, formerly the poor house. He spent his last year on earth forgetting everything, though she was the last thing he forgot.

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	The Impatience of the Living (August 1991)
	My father died at 79 last May, after a fairly rapid decline. The diagnosis was Binswanger's disease, or hardening of the arteries of the brain. Had you asked my mother, however, and the fire would kindle in her eyes. "I was a widow for three years before he died," she'd say. "He just gave up!" For her the three years were anything but rapid or fair. She nursed him through the first two, but when his falls became a matter for the EMS, the hospital refused to give him back. She spent the year of their 50th anniversary visiting him at the county health center, formerly the poor house. He spent his last year on earth forgetting everything, though she was the last thing he forgot.
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