Everything has an expiration date. Two years ago, on February 12, 2007, Laura Gitlin-Petlak, Beverly Hills divorce lawyer, wife, mom and daughter, expired at 6:15 a.m. (PT) after a six month battle with cancer. She lost. Three months later, in May of 2007, Laura's mom and my dear friend, Val Gitlin, was diagnosed with cancer. Over the past twenty-one months, Val met the beast head on, fought it with a vengeance, but like her daughter, lost the battle. So on the same exact day, two years later, at nearly the same time, mother and daughter were reunited for all eternity.
Call it a coincidence, call it a miracle, but call it a melancholy moment for friends and family. Those of you who have read my posts about Val know of her battle, and know it was merely a matter of time. Death comes in many forms, at the most inopportune moments, while we are busy, happy and progressing with life. This was no different. The past six weeks have been eventful; Val provided guidance in many ways, but never did I think she would teach me, teach us, how to die with dignity. But she did. We talked of life, of trivial things like what she wanted me to wear to the funeral and to her celebration of life -- not black she said, too depressing. "Wear the fuchsia jacket, or the purple suit -- too many will be in black."
We talked of the after life and the transition toward the ever after. We spoke of the spirits and those only she could see: always the same man, always in dark brown pants, with dark hair, and good looking. We talked of how long it took one to starve to death -- it depends on the fat stored in the body: the heavier the person, the longer the wait to die. We spoke of her joys, her sorrows, her hopes for a fast death while she slept, and who would watch over her beloved husband.
Each day she would say, "I must still be alive because you're here. Darn it." As the days turned to weeks and then faded into a month, I suggested she might be holding out for February 12, to join Laura on Abraham Lincoln's birthday. She hoped she would be "long gone by then." But she wasn't.
Death comes when it is least expected, at a pre-arranged time, known only by God. We knew it was close, but the past week was a count-down in the "Hospice Stages of Death" brochure and at each transition we knew the moment was getting closer.
We all have expiration dates, just like milk and cheese and eggs. Today, Thursday, February 12, 2009, in the wee hours of the morning, in her own bed, in the arms of her loving husband of 54 years, Val Johnson Gitlin met her expiration date in a peaceful way. We should all be so lucky.
Photo attribution: somewhatfortyplus
According to the New York Times, "Until now, evidence that the Mediterranean diet reduced the risk of
heart disease was weak, based mostly on studies showing that people from
Mediterranean countries seemed to have lower rates of heart disease — a
pattern that could have been attributed to factors other than diet." They also drank a fair amount of red wine every day, which could also lower blood pressure.
