Last night, the last of my grandparents died at age 84. Reduced to a zombie by dementia, poisoned due to failing kidneys, and consumed by cancer, the body of my grandma eventually collapsed.
The spiral downwards of my grandmother was already noticable in 2012 when it became appearant she couldn't live on her own anymore due to the emergence of dementia. Once in the nursery home, she more or less found her way again and enjoyed a rather good quality of life throughout the years, although she recognized less and less members of the family due to the dementia getting worse.
However, her physical downfall accelerated dramatically in the last month of here life as she began to forget the most elementary things, while failing kidneys also started to wreak havoc. To make matters even worse, a widespread cancer was discovered. The combination of all these dreadfull factors made it very clear she was done for.
Her death was expected and as a family we accept she is no longer among us. Although 84 years is an acceptable age, it is always sad when a member of the (immediate) family dies. It is a bit unsettling that the demon of old age eventually manages to sink its teeth in all of us.
Grandma, rest in peace ... !