I have not had this experience (yet), but my father did, about a decade ago. He had a cousin, nearly 20 years older than he, an unmarried middle school teacher, whose life had been wrecked by early family cruelty, and who trusted my dad and only my dad in this world. She was part of our lives as long as I can remember. She retired from teaching, and lived frugally but comfortably for another 20 years. She spent her time with a narrow circle of friends, wrote letters to people in prison, and loved to eat out--and then one day fell on stairs at her apartment complex, hit her head, and was hospitalized with no apparent prognosis for recovery of consciousness. My dad was her proxy and had to decide whether to continue care or not; her directives were fairly clear, but her condition did not fit easily into the framework of the directives.

I remember my father telling me how hard all this was, but I didn't understand. He is not someone who examines his feelings, and I recognized that he was trying to express something more than his words could. But I didn't understand. And I probably said something shallow like, "You did the right thing," which was not the point, whether he did or not.

His connection to his cousin was not yours to your father, Adeline, but your searing, beautiful, moving piece has helped me understand a little better, and a decade later, what my dad was trying to tell me.

Keep swimming, my friend, and may that lasso unclench lap by lap.