A DEEPLY PERSONAL POST

Shortly after Susie and I moved into this retirement community in July 2017, we were invited for wine and snacks to the apartment of the lady who lives just below us.  Frances [whose last name I will keep private] had also invited another couple whom she thought we ought to meet.  Frances is the grande dame of the entire community, the person who has lived here the longest.  She is a devout Episcopalian of progressive political leanings, the widow of a man who for many years was the Treasurer of the Episcopal Church of Boston.

Frances is now ninety-seven, a tiny, elegant woman, almost blind and almost deaf but fully alert, bright, cheerful, well-informed about everything that takes place here and in the larger world, and – honesty compels me to say – something of a bully about such things as where on the lobby Christmas tree each ornament should be placed during the annual decorating ceremony.

For many years, each morning at six a.m., Frances has gone to the section of our community’s health center where the sick and dying are cared for, to visit them, to cheer them, to attend to their needs.  Each Sunday, she worships at the church she attended as a girl, sitting in the same pew her family occupied a century ago.

Frances saw something in me that I did not see in myself and promoted me for the position of Precinct Representative of Building 5, offering me an opportunity in my old age for something akin to community service.

For some time, Frances has been wearied by her failing eyesight and hearing, by her weakening physical condition, and by the sheer effort of continuing her long life.  Characteristically unwilling to submit to a process she can no longer control, she consulted deeply with her sons and made plans.

This morning, dressed as though for a social event, pushing her three-wheeled walker before her, Frances went to the Health Center, there to end her life on her own terms.

I shall miss her more than I can say.