BTW, I found the errant marriage certificate in an envelope in this bag today. A helpful neighbor who stopped by to move Burt into a better position in the bed said, “You might not notice, but I see a huge decline in the last 3 months.” I did. Notice that is. The route’s been downhill, […]
For better. Or worse. Nov 2024
Burt declined from November until his death on February 25, 2025.
After his birthday party in early November, he stopped getting out of bed. There had been other declines; he had bounced (or roller coastered) back. I wanted to think he was being difficult but I knew what was going on.
He withdrew more and more into the hallucinatory relationships he had. He wasn’t sad or mad, just in a world I couldn’t inhabit. [The time he and I were talking and he said (seemingly to the ceiling fixture) “what?” and to me, “just a minute” sticks with me. He returned to our conversation when he finished that other one.]
He wasn’t mad or sad, but I was.
This coming week, Burt would have turned 88. It will be a sad day and I will celebrate the many years we had together, all of them from the best to the hardest.
