It's hard to think of death as being merciful but... I don't know how to word this so i'll para-phrase my Gran: When you can no longer do the things that make you you, then you cease being you. Does that make sense when it's written down? I'm never sure how you're supposed to write things like "you you". Erm, anyways, she was basically saying that because she can no longer lead the life that she's wants to then she doesn't see the point in being alive. Defeatist? No, not really. After all this is the woman that gets up at 5am to open up the church, bakes enough food for 10 families, and voluntarily takes care of Christian back-packers from all over the world. Well, that's the woman she used to be. She's not used to not doing anything, and I can see where that would be unacceptable. I'd go mad after a week of bed rest. She's been that way, on and off, since January.
She's coming home in the next few days because she wants to be home when she 'goes'. This was a bit hard to get my head around too. Planning where you're going die. Surely it should be a completely random event. But, no, she's going to be at home, in her own bed. She's quite adamant on that.
I'm sure over the next few weeks she'll have her funeral fully planned too. Which is something to anticipate fondly. Gosh, it's great being British. You can handle anything with that same unflinching, stoic stubbornness... yay?