By David Hunter (put on this blog by his son)...a good son, husband, father, brother, and now grandpa. Love Haven, Madison, Corbyn, Brandon, and Gibson.















Epilogue

I had a dog. Her name was Autumn. I loved and protected her because she was my dog. One day I decided to let her run free and experience life beyond the boundaries I made. To explore uncharted territory. While I was gone, the road took her. It's cruel pavement freed her spirit forever and now all that is left are memories.

The call came as they usually do at 12:30 AM. The person from the nursing home told me my mom was experiencing chest pains and having trouble breathing. They were transferring her to the hospital. Thirty minutes later the phone rang again. I knew before I picked it up who it was, and what the message would be. My mother died at 1:00 AM.

Even though my mother didn't recognize me in the final days of her illness, I know she loved me. I am sure when she returns I will know her and she will understand. My journey did not end when hers did. The guilt and fear will follow me until the day I die or until I can't remember it anymore.

The journey with my mother had its peaks and valleys, mostly valleys. It taught me much about my mother and I learned a lot about myself. Her love for me was unconditional. Even though the early years had been bad for her, her attitude and faith remained strong until the end. It reaffirmed my belief that money, career, power, and goals for the future mean absolutely nothing in this game we call life. I have seen that happiness can be found in simple things like the smile of a grandchild, and the love of family. I have learned to take time to live before I have to take time to die.

On a cool autumn day I laid my mother to rest beside my father. Their journey was complete. Everyone told me it was for the best that now she was with my father. Somehow that didn't console me.

I kissed her cheek. It was no longer wrinkled. I was a child again and she was once more the mother I knew before the illness. The horrors of Alzheimer's was gone, and I wept.