After 53 years, I had to say goodbye to my beloved.

Iqbal Junaid 11/28/34 (or 29) — 12/28/25

I wrote here about the beginning. What I Did Today – Airy Nothing He was doing very well until just before Thanksgiving. Around then all the calluses on his feet started peeling off. This was a side effect to the chemo meds, so they took him off until the one tiny open wound closed.

At the same time, his already small appetite started lessening and he was sleeping more and more. I encouraged him to eat more, but he said he couldn’t. He was still able to walk a bit, and not always with a cane or walker, but changing into or out of his clothes exhausted him. When Alex got here for Christmas, he didn’t join us in watching movies and Jeopardy as he always did in past years.

Christmas day was good. He liked his books and lounge pajamas, but didn’t understand why anyone needed more than one pair of suspenders (typical Iqbal). He also liked his cookies and candy. He couldn’t eat much at a time, but managed a couple of cookies right away. He managed to eat a spoonful of everything on the dinner table and, though considerably subdued, he did participate a bit in the dinner conversation.

We usually had a heart to heart chat every night when he went to bed. About mid December he stopped telling me “this won’t get me” and told me more often how much he loved me and appreciated how I was taking care of him. By Christmas I was praying I’d have him until February. That was not meant to be.

Though years sooner than I wanted, and months sooner than I expected, I was prepared. His sons were prepared. I’m grateful I had the six months to fuss over him a little, because I was not prepared in July when he was so close to going. (People his age usually die of sepsis and he got better, completely clear of the sepsis.)

I wish he had wanted to be cremated so that I could keep a part of him close to me. But he was adamant about wanting to be buried. So he is, and my cremains will be put with him when the time comes.

September 22, 2025 Not bad for a 91 or 96 yo guy. This is the last posed photo of him. He still had that sparkle in his eyes.

The different birth dates are because he just didn’t know what year he was born. He wanted it to be 1936, but when he became a citizen, someone in his family said she thought it was around 1934, so that’s his legal age. Last year we put together all the early events of his life and the fact that he was certain he was born on a Thursday because he’d been told so, and we finally decided it must have been 1929. In reality, until last July, he was no older than me. (1952)