My friend John is dying slowly. He has lung cancer which normally should have took him out months ago. He transferred to a residential Hospice to die about eight months back and there he lays...day in and day out.
In the beginning, he cried often and had a lot of anxiety. Now he talks about his past and the things he should have done differently. He talks about love and how people should never put on a facade to please others. He talks about his bowels and he talks about his arthritis. He talks about being sick of the food. He laughs and he cries and he waits on death to come.
When I leave John, I breathe the fresh air. I enjoy the freedom I have to to go anywhere I please. When I get home, my daughter comes in from school and I pull her close for a hug and I smell her hair and enjoy living just a little bit more and remember that it is a gift...it is all a gift.
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2 comments:
Really moved by this, Robin. Nothing I can say, but give you hugs and you're right - so right - that the whole thing is a gift.
A
xxx
Thanks Anne!
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