I’m glad you’re not here to watch what’s on my horizon. You would probably disapprove of my decisions. Although, you …
This unexpected post is a result of my overwhelming enthusiasm for Dia’s exploration of the topic of dying in The Odd & Unmentionable. As always, she writes with clarity and illumination and confronts the topic that most of us shy away from, either from our own fears or from concern about our audience’s fears. Continue reading
As I stare into the night, someone I know is watching the love of her life slip into the quicksand of death one agonizing millimeter at a time. Family and friends come and go, stretch their own grief to mingle with hers. But nothing stops that creep of darkness reaching toward the glow on the horizon.
There will be talk about how much living he crammed into a too-short life. It seems often the case: those, whose destiny will be cut short, seem driven to soak up as much life as possible, to accomplish more than the rest of us, to be ever moving and doing and laughing and teaching. But now, as he slips from their grasp, no one has words for what is happening. It is simply too shocking and too confusing. Words dissolve into a swamp. There is no help for the blunt truth of loss.
For the first time in over two years, his pain seems to have submitted to the master. Pharmacology has been the jailer, holding out the promise of relief, cures, and time, yet exacting untold discomforts and miseries as the price of life. Now pharmacology steps forward in its own morbid victory march, removing the pain but stealing the essence of the man.