When Good Things Come To An End

"Doctor says she's, what do you call it, lost the strive for life? Lost the luster for life?" His voice is a surprisingly positive tone as he describes the condition of the love of his life. "I mean, she talks to me just fine and all, but just kind of lies there in the bed when the doctors and staff come in."

I work in health insurance in a department that caters to an older clientele. This isn't my first end-of-the-line love story.  The unhappy ending to a chance-encounter-2-year-engagement-blissful-wedding-2.5-kids-and-a-dog-numerous-fights-numerous-makeups love stories we're sold on TV and in books-then-movies. I'm just impressed that he can talk about her condition with such composer.

"But no, I won't be moving her. She wouldn't be able to take it, you know? [Nervous chuckle] I mean, she fell at the last place. They didn't have the 'round-the-clock care she's getting now, you see. She's got, what is it, heart problem- congenial? Congenital? She had a stroke last month so we had her in the hospital for a bit. She got out, then had her fall. So, no, can't move her [uncomfortable chuckle]."

"All right, sir, well if you're all set then-" I tried to regain direction of the conversation but to no avail as he adds,

"You know I even tried to get her in the car to go see the Christmas lights- she loved those!- but she wouldn't get out of the bed. Just sat up and watched TV." His tone dropped to a more truthful, somber tone.

"Um, sir? I-" How do you mourn the loss of a living person? "Well, all right, then thank you I am all se- uh huh, good bye." He chokes out in between my nervous stuttering.

He's reaching the ending of his love's story.