My brother the doctor said the cause of my dad’s death was a “medical mystery.” I claim that he died because he willed himself to do so.
For the past six years, my parents had lived together in the same room in a small nursing home in Los Angeles. My mom, who had a bit of dementia, was content. My dad, who was physically frail but mentally sharp, was miserable, but in his mind, he needed to stay alive to take care of my mom as best he could. He did just that, and at my mom’s funeral, he said, “My job is done. I can now die, too.” And so he did, peacefully and without any regrets.
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