Growing up in the neighborhood, there was the cutest old couple. Mr. and Mrs. Fox kept their lawn and home immaculate. They were extremely kind to each other and all of us. They put up with the neighborhood kids and genuinely seemed to like us. She was the epitome of the grandmotherly image -- handing out cookies and compliments. They died within a few days of each other.
My own maternal grandparents, who claimed ultimate disdain for each other, had a surreal fascination with the other. They died within a few days of each other.
I know many people who have lost a spouse, grieved, picked up the pieces and found joy again. I've witnessed many people who cannot do it. Is it sheer will for those who find the strength? Is it weakness or simply dying of a broken heart for those who cannot?
We were informed this morning that Hangdog is being transported from the Home to the hospital. His blood pressure is too low and his pulse is too high. Deja Vu. I know this road. I've traveled it before.
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