Unexpected News

Carl and I first crossed paths at a healthcare company in California. He was an efficient project manager known for his no-nonsense approach and unwavering loyalty as a friend and husband. Despite moving on to another company, I maintained our friendship.

One day, I reached out to him and received heartbreaking news: Christy had been diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme, an aggressive form of brain cancer. My heart ached, as I was all too familiar with this type of cancer; my half-brother, Brady, had succumbed to it in 2004.

Brady’s journey had been riddled with suffering, beginning when he lost control of his leg while cycling, leading to multiple seizures and a devastating diagnosis. Watching him deteriorate was an unbearable experience.

Though Carl was deeply distressed, he tried to keep a hopeful outlook. Over the following two years, he and Christy would confront unimaginable challenges, testing their love, resilience, and humanity.

Lost

In late spring of 2019, I called Carl again. Initially, he sounded upbeat, but upon mentioning Christy's treatments, he broke down in tears. “She’s gone. I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed. My heart sank, recalling the profound loss I felt when my own mother passed away while I was incarcerated. I offered my condolences and listened as Carl expressed his grief.

Christy had passed away just a few months prior, at the age of 51. I allowed Carl to cry and share his feelings without interruption, understanding that sometimes, the best way to help is simply to be present.

Months later, I called him again. He was still in deep sorrow, and I proposed visiting him. He welcomed the idea, and I drove to the small, rural town where he lived, nestled in the mountains.

Freedom

We sat on the couch for hours, reminiscing about happier times. Tragically, Carl and Christy had purchased their dream home just months before her diagnosis. As he showed me photos of their joyful moments, I noticed that despite the tears, he was beginning to find solace in sharing his memories.

Eventually, we confronted the most significant topic: Christy's decision to pursue the right to die. Her health had deteriorated, and the neurological effects of the cancer were becoming unbearable. The doctors outlined a grim future—severe headaches, seizures, and loss of autonomy were just the beginning.

Faced with this reality, Christy made the courageous choice to end her life with support from her healthcare team, opting for California's End of Life Option Act (EOLOA). This law allows individuals over 18 with terminal illnesses to choose a peaceful exit from life, ensuring they avoid prolonged suffering.

As Viktor Frankl wisely stated, "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."

The EOLOA has empowered countless individuals to make this profound choice, helping them evade extreme suffering often associated with terminal illnesses.

One Last Sunset

Throughout their marriage, Carl and Christy faced their share of challenges, particularly as Christy’s fierce independence sometimes kept her from relying on Carl. However, as her condition worsened, she slowly let down her guard, allowing him to care for her.

On her final night, surrounded by loved ones, Carl recounted how they stood together at the large sliding glass window, witnessing the breathtaking sunset—the last she would ever see.

In a heartbreaking yet beautiful moment, Carl mixed the aid-in-dying drug with fruit juice, and Christy ingested it, feeling the sedative take effect. Together, they lay