Cup of Jo

I look to the door, and see death leaning in the door way. He's beautiful. I tell him to go away. Pain, his on and off companion, is behind him. Pain pushes past death and comes to her bedside, whispers in her ear and takes her hand. I scream for him to go away, or even take my hand and let go of hers, but he looks at me with and angel's smile and says he can't. 

Her breathing speeds up as she uses her fading reserve of strength to look at pain, glare at him rather. She then musters even more strength and looks at me. With despair she says, "I'm cold". I push Pain aside and go to her.Pain takes her other hand. She already has 5 blankets on, there is nothing I can do. I take her hand, it's hotter than the sun. She has a fever of 99.5, her body is trying to fight the infection, mend the broken bone, and find nutrients from somewhere. She hasn't eaten in 5 days. 

I look at pain and spit curses on him. How dare he. Death looks at me from the doorway, and walks away. He knows it's Pain's turn for now, not his. He'll be back soon. 

In walks my grandpa. His constant friends, Joy and Comfort, follow behind him. He looks at me and smiles. "It's the babe!" (My nickname) He embraces me and then turns to look at his wife with eyes filled with wisdom. He goes to her side, takes her hand and rubs her head. With hands of gentleness, he takes her face and gazes into her eyes and says, "I'm taking you home, are you ready?" She nods yes. He says, "We'll get through this together, we'll make it together somehow" She sighs in agreement. He then takes a chair next to me, still holding her right hand while Pain holds her left. He glares at Pain but knows there is nothing he can do.

Joy and comfort take both mine and his hands. Mine and my grandpa's friendship has grown in the last couple days thanks to Joy, Comfort, Faith, and Shared Sorrow. Those three have been faithful to push out Fear and Anxiety. As we sit, we make simple conversation. Can she hear us?

The nurse said that hearing is the last thing to go. What does she think when her name is mixed in with "Hospice", "Funeral Plans", "Infection", etc. Does she understand? 

As the family has come together in this time of tragedy, we all are seeking Wisdom to tell us where to draw the line between fighting for life and helping someone to be comfortable in death. 

Sitting in the nursing home, therapy center, whatever you want to call it, I watch with the eyes of the naive. Will I ever be comfortable with Stillness like these patients are? Stillness has each of their hands and they don't seem to notice. What are they thinking? Do memories bring lasting joy or lasting pain? They all have a look that says, "I never thought I'd be here". 

When people think of Death, we think of him as coming quickly. Death needs to get things done, he can't just mess around right? Oh but he does, more than we know. He lingers. I hate that. 

I don't think about Death very often, but this week he has been on my mind a lot.