It's been six months.

So, at this point, everyone who has a real say has decided not to sue the hospital that sent my aunt home when her transplant was already rejecting.

I can understand why they all made that choice.  Her son (the person who donated the kidney) is moving out of state, one of her daughters just had a baby, her partner is having a really, really rough time and isn't up for that kind of long, drawn out legal battle.

I can understand.  I wouldn't be the one dealing with it on a daily basis. 

But part of me still wants the doctors and hospital to pay, even if only in money, because this should never have happened.  She should not have been sent home.  The blood vessel nick should have been caught long before the kidney died.   There are actual people who made actual mistakes that lead to her death.

The hospital had it's organ transplant program pulled.  I guess that's the most I can hope for. 

It's been slightly over six months.  I am still at the angry stage.  And the denial stage.  I simply can't conceive of a world without her in it.  She was a light in the darkness, she had a faith that will always be my goal post.  If I can find anything to believe in that I can believe in as strong and hard as she did in God, in there being justice and love and hope, than I will have lead a life worth living.

And I guess that the strongest comfort I can have and I can give those who loved her.  I have faith that she lived a life worth living, that she made the world a better place for those she touched, and that none of us will ever forget her.