Sorry for just reading your post, but I'm just now getting to the bereavement section of DU. I have buried my father, he was killed in WWII when I was only 4 months old; my Mother, who grieved for my father until she died in my arms at 82 years old. My son, who was born with severe brain damage and never matured over the age of six months but lived on in constant pain until he was 38. My brother, who died in my arms at 69 from the ravages of colon cancer. So, that only leaves me (and my 7 rescue cats). I look at the pictures on my bedroom wall and realize I'm the only one still 'here'. I wish I could rejoice in that fact, but I am in a constant state of depression, especially this time of year. I'm sorry you're the one I've chosen to tell all this to, but some days, it is just too overwhelming to be alive. So, I guess it's too late for me to not be 'the last to go'. Thanks for reading, if you do.
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