Do you remember the day that you died?
I do. It was late winter and we drove from your place on Quadra Island to Nainamo where we boarded the ferry for Tsawassen. I crawled into bed with you that morning seeing you were suddenly much weaker and more distant. I laid behind you and hugged your whole body with mine. I said, I don't want you to die. It was the only time during those last six weeks that I acknowledged you were slipping away. You said you weren't dying and I helped you get up and go to the bathroom. I gave you yogurt for breakfast, you ate it on the couch and spilled a bit on your cotton turtleneck. I can't remember what happened to that shirt, it went away with you and the yogurt stain never to be seen again.
Safe Passage 01
1 comment:
This is such a powerful story. Are you going to share all of it? I think of that experience that you had often, and I find myself wondering if I would be as full of grace. Equal parts wanting to be there for my loved ones when they pass, and not sure I could do it.
Post a Comment