Flyby Stardancer

I thought we'd have more time together. He wasn't supposed to get dementia this young, and he isn't supposed to be dying in hospice now. He'll never get to read the books I'd planned to write, and he wanted to so much. We'll never get to play another TTRPG campaign together, and I had some ideas for one I really wanted to do with him. I'll never get to see Yosemite with him. We were supposed to have another 20 years together, at least. His father is still alive at age 92, and he should have lived at least that long. I won't get to retire and move north with him, and go on hikes in the woods with him.

I've been slowly mourning the possibilities being cut off one by one as the dementia advanced, but there was always a slim hope that it was a form of dementia that could be fixed or controlled with medication. Now there is no hope; he is dying. There are no more possibilities with him, and I grieve.