Swift, it didn't feel right for me to reply to any of your other posts regarding these happenstances. I'm not sure why, but it didn't, yet it's not quite the same this time.
I'm happy it happened like it did. That's not to say I'm happy it happened, and I'm sure you didn't mistake it that way. In my line of work, mortality is apparent. Not only have I bourn witness to the deaths of many people, in many ways, both brutal and peaceful, but a few of those people have been the "everything"s in my life, and had they all gone at once, I would not be here, because there would be absolutely not reason to be, save vain hope, which is too meager a diet for the soul to survive on alone. Luckily for me, I still have two old comrades still breathing (though breathing is literally quite hard for one), and my wife, who is the meaning of my life.
I've seen horrible things, that can never be removed from my mind, nor can the heart be fully healed, as those that die leave pain for the loved ones who are uncertain of what death brought them. I'm saying this, because it's the closest thing I can do to shaking your hand tightly, or clasping your shoulder, nodding, and saying how thankful I am for you...
...that you got to be there when she died. That you got to hold her and hear her. That you were right there. That though you could not stop the inevitable, you were there to meet it with her. Death is not preventable, but both you and she were fortunate enough that you could face it.
It's too terrible a thing to face alone; your last moments of life drowned in desparation, hate, and fear, with a mind, body, and heart violated to the core.
I have known many who deserved so much more who were not spared such a death, so I am inexplicably happy for you. As you mourn her death, at least take comfort in this one luxury that may have meant more to her than you know.
Peace be with you.
Zaijian,
Tiger
