And Then There Was One

Just a couple of years ago, my father and his brother and sister were all still alive at eighty-plus.  Then his older brother got sick and died within a few months.  And recently his sister became very ill, and now she, too, has passed away.

Ironically, a few years ago, it seemed that my father was the weakest of the three, having suffered an aneurysm and later mild heart attack.  But in the end, he's the survivor.  It's not easy for him.  They were all very close.

The local doctor and rabbi said that it would be much too stressful to try to get him to sit shiva, the Jewish week of mourning.  He can barely hear, especially since his hearing-aid broke and the new ones aren't ready yet.  Conversation is difficult.  He's supposed to stay calm, not easy when so upset.

I'm too stressed  out and upset to write about my aunt right now.  Another time...