Few on this planet have walked through the doorway to the beyond with the understanding, peace and grace that Aaron exhibited in his life, and in his poignant post on Facebook:
Farewell, all my friends, old and new. I have decided to "pull the plug" on March 24. I have to say that these past 47 years have been a grand adventure, and it is bittersweet to see it end. It will be quick and painless, and I am at peace with my decision. I am sad that I'm leaving my family. Though these words don't adequately express my feelings, they're the best I have.
To all of you who have been touched, no, mauled, by ALS, hang on, a cure is surely on its way. Alas, unless it comes in the next week, it's too late for me. I am nearly at the point where it is impossible to communicate, and if you know me, you know how much I love to talk when I have something on my mind.
Speaking of which, there are a few things I'd like to say. First, I want to express my gratitude to everyone who has supported me and my family in a multitude of ways. You have made all the difference in the world, and I expect you'll have nothing but good karma coming your way. I wish I had the time and energy to thank each of you personally. Suffice to say, I thank you and I wish the best for you and yours.
Next, I need to say that I will be spending the days I have left in solitude with Gwen, Ashlin, and Sabina. Although I will continue to read messages and emails, please don't expect a response. I have such limited time and energy now, and I want to focus all of it on my family. For messages to me, feel free to post those here. For offers to help or any questions, please send an email. Please do not text or call us. Our family has decided not to accept visitors this next week. Thank you for understanding.
Finally, I would like to speak a little about the process of dying as I've experienced it these past four years. First off, it's not a matter of dying, so much as a process of living.
I can't stress that enough. When I lived with Elisabeth Kubler-Ross some 27 years ago, I thought it odd that so many people would send her butterflies. I don't mean literal butterflies, but rather drawings and stuffed cushions shaped like butterflies, many of which were created by terminally ill patients.
I used to think that they symbolized the notion of life after death. But now I've come to the conclusion that they actually represented the idea of life BEFORE death. This is an important distinction, one which I feel fortunate to have made before my end. Thus the personal mantra that I've had these past few months, that goes something like, "6 more beautiful days, and today is the most beautiful yet."
Even if we haven't had the pleasure of meeting, I want to affirm how influential you have been in my life. I love life dearly, in all its forms. Thank you for indulging me these few, precious minutes.