… but it’s only Thursday, or already Thursday. Time’s such an elastic entity. A couple of patients have been with us (at hospice) for several weeks, about to die any day. And yet they motor on: one sleeping like an angel for days on end, and the other drifting in and out as if travelling back and forth from this world to that. “What’s she waiting for,” one grandson asked me, having sat and slept vigil at grandma’s bedside for, like, forever.
In A year to live, Stephen Levine proposes a number of activities to aid the reader in facing the inevitable. “The suggestion to reflect on the possibilities of work to be completed and hearts to be touched is no lazy fantasy,” he writes (p.16).
So, what work do you have to complete, what hearts to touch before you die? What if you had only a year to live, or a week, or this day? What’s important, what really matters?
Yours with a deep bow of affection.