HC+death ((My hand slipped))
When she was sixty-two, Barbara was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors couldn’t exactly pin point exactly the cause of it was. The only explanation was that it could be hereditary, but Barbara’s doctor did joke, rather morbidly, if she had been around any nuclear power plants or radiation lately. It was either the radiation from Skaro, an antidote that didn’t work completely or perhaps pesticide covered seed when they had been shrunk down. But at this point, it really didn’t matter how she contracted the disease.
She hid her diagnosis from Ian for about four months before he stumbled upon a letter sent from the hospital regarding how the treatment she was undergoing was just not working. An awful fight followed, their first truly awful blazing row, in the end Barbara walked straight out of the house, too upset to deal with her husband’s anger and the emotions of knowing all the treatment was useless. Ian had to go out and find her. The fight quickly forgiven and forgotten.
The months that followed were a roller coaster. Some days were better than most, other days were the hardest thing to get through and brought the Chesterton’s to their breaking point But by December, Barbara’s health had deteriorated to the point where it was clear she had perhaps two months at the maximum.
But she refused to stay in the hospital any longer. So home she went. She wanted to die in a place full of love, some place familiar and welcoming. Through some miracle, she lives long enough to see her granddaughter, something she thought wasn’t going to be possible.
On February 18th, 1993, at the age of 63, Barbara Grace Wright Chesterton passed away, sometime late in the evening, in the arms of her husband. Despite Ian’s best efforts to get her to pass away peacefully in her sleep. She needed to kiss him goodbye, so she forced herself to stay awake.
Her biggest regret was leaving Ian.
