Better off dead.

My friend Ron is still alive. But he’s really not Ron anymore. He’s  been robbed of himself. By advanced Alzheimer’s. Didn’t help that he fell a few weeks ago, and broke his neck. Maybe it would have been best if he was left to die. But his life was saved. By heroic measures. Surgery. That fused the break together. And Ron is healing. Don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. Ron’s useful life is over. Those close to him wish for him to linger on.  But I have a different attitude. I’d not grieve if Ron died tomorrow. A time comes when death is better than life. It’s come for Ron. Though his daughter Julie and son-in-law Rick, his primary care-givers, won’t ever wish for Ron’s death.  It goes against their grain. Can’t say that I wish for his death. But I suspect death would come as a tremendous relief. For Ron.  And hey, death may bring a bonus. An afterlife. So-called ‘believers’ believe it. Makes one think they’d welcome death. Instead, they often fear death. Can’t say I’m a true believer. Few people are. Or so I suspect. But in my role as a romantic idealist, I want to believe. Because that would affirm my romantic notions. But hey, whether there’s an afterlife or not, Ron would be better off dead. Than living with Alzheimer’s. –Jim Broede