From Jim Nolan
Cousins, family,
Six or seven years ago, my cousin David (about 4years older and almost a foot taller) was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's.
Over the course of time he spoke less but always had his great smile. I saw him about three years ago ( he had just given up driving) and he looked good, interacted well, laughed and smiled, but just didn't say a whole lot as his words were being erased one by one.
I remember him as a handsome, gregarious, fun loving guy who loved and was loved by everyone he met.
The last year or so has been a challenge and struggle for him, his caregivers, my cousins, his wife, and my aunt (his mother and the matriarch of the Baker-Granger/Dacy line).
To witness the slow, gradual decline of such an outgoing young man has been tough on everyone around him as well as extended friends and family.
I know my aunt has had an especially tough time of it; watching her eldest son go from bigger than life to almost a two dimensional image or even a placeholder, if you will.
Hope was ever-present that maybe he would return or just stabilize and coast a bit longer until a cure could be found -at least in my mind as I sat 2,000 miles away.
Iknow for those by his side, hope was just one of the myriad of intense emotions they felt every single day; depending upon what new issue arose as David began to quickly decline.
I know it has been hard on my other cousins watching their older brother, the guy they've known all their lives, slowly leave while also watching the toll it took on their mother, helpless, to stop her son's slow departure.
I can't even begin to comprehend the pain, frustration, and loss Dawn, his wife, has suffered; watching the man she fell in love with so long ago, involuntarily leave her a little bit each day.
At fifteen, when my dad died in a motorcycle accident, I reconciled myself to the fact we will all eventually lose our parents, or siblings, and everyone we've ever loved. It's just a fact of life.
But only the most insidious of things causes a mother to lose her child. And only the worst of those would make her watch it happen, little by little.
The last remnant of my cousin David, finally left his body last night at 10pm. His struggle has now ended.
My thoughts and prayers go to my cousin, David, and to all who loved and cared for him.
I find solace in the Horizon Prayer, my favorite part:
"Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing but the limit of our sight."
Rest In Peace David: son, husband, brother, uncle, leader, friend, and an amazing cousin.