Walking Wounded

Monday, May 21, 2012

On death and dying

Tonight was a holy night

We were called for days in heart to go to him. Tonight we did so. Our Uncle B. was dying. With family around the air was charged.
Yet still I could hear him and he me. We sang some hymns and he responded although all but comatose. We was in that place between both whelms. His shell no longer easy to response. Yet he could furrow his brow or raise a hand. He reached for me and for his daughter too when we rose.
With several of us there the love that filled that room was rich.
When at the 11th hour it was time for us to return homeward bound to tend our children, I said my gratitude of heart to him. Thanking him for the honor of the journey and telling him of the wonder and the gift of knowing a honorable man. Telling him not to be afraid or fear, kissing his cheek . Asking of him to remember Steve and I and the children when he is standing beside that thrown. I told him that I will see him on the other side.
For the only and first time of the evening...he whispered in front of three of his daughters. "I love you.". They heard it and saw his mouth move.
Our Dear Uncle B. is to the far right. 
Peaceful flight dear friend.
Image take in 2004 at our Indian wedding
Uncle B is to the gar l
I love you to Dear Uncle B. My husbands paternal Uncle.

1 comment:

Joyful said...

Beautiful. It would be so lovely if all people had loving family and friends with them as they passed.

Songs of my heart