Another day is dawning. My mouth is so dry, but I am calm. Still, what does the good Lord have in mind for me? Why am I hanging on? Honestly, I am ready to go – but I’m not ready to go.
Last night there was another party in my room. My nurse, Jennifer, took over so that the family could sleep. I know they must not have slept too well as they kept coming in every once in a while and chatted. They chatted a lot. Now, don’t get me wrong – I enjoy their chatting, but I also enjoy the silence. Sometimes they sit and hold my hand. I love the feeling of someone touching me. They know I am in here. I can hear them – I just can’t respond.
I used to be the entertainer, the one to tell jokes and the one to sing songs. I cannot for the life of me get those sounds to come out of my mouth. The air comes in and the air goes out… and that’s the sound they hear. I know it scared my grandchildren a bit to see me like this – but their parents reassured them that my journey is one that is not painful. It is part of life. God, how I wish Paula had this exit opportunity. I am comfortable in my own home – this is my bed – I know these sounds of birds chirping, of skateboards passing down the street. Thank goodness no noisy motorcycles yet.
The sun is rising – I feel the warmth on my face. My limbs are still warm, but I’m getting tired of being in the same place – the girls turn me every once in a while but it hurts. All I can do is groan. But they know and they are gentle. God bless their care.
I hear the birds.
I lost Paula on November 12, 2010 at 7 in the morning. Is that my time? I know I’ll be called… but when?
I love my family. I hear, “I love you Dad”, and I tell their hearts, “I love you too”. You are never to old to learn, don’t you know – I just learned a new language: the language of heart. I communicate without speaking or seeing. I think I get it. Maybe that’s why I’m still here – I’m preparing to speak without needing my body. Is that it?
I’m tired. I am breathing. I am relaxed. I wait.