I really don't visit the A Room Of Our Own (AROO) blog for many, many reasons. However, I arrived there tonight via a link in someone's post (I forget who it was at this point). Anyway, I found out that one of the sites' bloggers transitioned (from this world to the great beyond) due to an infection related to his Multiple Sclerosis. I really wanted to post a comment on the post but I'm not really sure it would be welcome and I didn't want to cause his loved ones any further grief during such a difficult period. Still, the description of his last moments really filled my heart with gladness when I read it.
"We put the palm-tree picture up at the foot of his bed and I've hung the crystal over the end too, and he's snuggling the lil owl along with a monkey from a friend and a big teddy bear from a third."
"I left a block of post-it-notes out on the table for people to write him messages which I was able to read to him later, which was fab. We've put them all into a little book"
"we persuaded the medical team to let us take him home yesterday, of course he has a disabled flat and a proper hospital bed & so on, so it's all perfectly set up. And he can listen to music, and have his familiar smells & sounds, and people can visit in comfort and without pressure. And we give them proper tea and coffee, instead of plastic random brownstuff from those awful machines!"
This is the sort of end-of-life care that preserves the dignity of the individual and provides for them as spiritual, emotional beings--not just lumps of bone and flesh to be manipulated and shoved aside after being deemed irrevocably useless to society. It's what we all deserve.
Regardless of what you feel about the politics over at AROO, I think that this particular situation is worth acknowledging. I hope that, wherever the soul that was Guy Dunsterville in this life may now be, he has now found the sort of perfect bliss mentioned in many of the world's faith traditions.