Glowworms

"Why do I think that death would be manageable if I knew in advance when it was coming? Death is not manageable, and the answer to the question of when is never going to be anything more than a good guess."

"But, as our May 9th departure inched closer, three things became increasingly clear: first, Karl's hundred-and-two-year-old mother, Jo VanDevender, was not going to make it to a hundred and three; second, my friend Jim Fox, who, at eighty-four, had been diagnosed as having pancreatic cancer that had metastasized to his lungs, wasn't going to beat the odds much longer;"

"Karl and I had many long talks about whether to cancel the trip. Karl is a doctor, and he is able to be both kind and unsentimental where death is concerned, even the deaths of his mother and his dog. He said it was possible that all three would still be here when we returned, and it was also possible that they would die while we were gone and we wouldn't be able to get back in time, and, by the way, back in time for what? To be helpful?"

A book tour to Australia and New Zealand was scheduled for 2024 with flights and festival tickets already purchased. As departure approached, three close figures showed severe decline: Karl's 102-year-old mother Jo VanDevender was unlikely to reach 103; friend Jim Fox, age eighty-four, had metastatic pancreatic cancer; and the couple's dog Sparky developed an enlarged heart. The couple repeatedly discussed cancelling the trip, weighing the possibility all three would still be alive on return against the chance they would die while away and whether returning would actually be helpful. Jo had lived seventy-five years on Poplar Springs Drive surrounded by family.

Read at The New Yorker