I really have never seen anyone grow old before- you see, my grandmother died when she was 65 from lung cancer and my other grandparents lived in Florida.

When my other grandmother was dying, I went to her home and sat by her bedside in the same condo she had always lived in. It was quick and painless- at least, for me.

I’ve seen my husband’s grandmother end her journey- same situation: in her condo, surrounded by friends and family.

But other than basically fast forwarding through the movie of Life with those relatives, I had not experienced first hand the demise of the soul.

In fact, I feel like I can’t even press pause on this horror movie, featuring dementia and instability.

What’s worse is, I got the grave opportunity to tour a nursing home- highlighting death in its finest. I especially enjoyed seeing the randomly displayed wheel chairs containing the lifeless vegetables just facing a wall or just staring at something inconsequential.

If only I could bleach my brain from the embedded images forever in my mind- because I’m seriously considering buying a pack of camels.