In the monastery the time we have is noticed. Breathing is noticed. the look on a face the eyes and memories the line on his face the memories of his youth his life his breath is noticed. It is surreal to see your Dad who took care of you who was strong and smart and brave and true, be laying on the bed now leaving the planet for a new place to live. He will live again in a new body and I hope it is in heaven but I cannot be sure. We all want it to be in heaven a beautiful place but that is between him and God who made him. all I can do is look at him and notice his being here now , labored and struggling and yelling and angry and uncomfortable of course and fighting. It is a horrible struggle to die. Too bad we can’t just kiss everyone goodbye and let it go. No we have to fight. Our time together is strange. I care for him like he was a child. What does he need to stop the pain… What can I say to make him focus on something else. the hours and hours just looking at him. I am lucky. these hours are not wasted.
I think about my own death. How will it be for me. will It be quick or drawn out. I hope I will fill my last days with prayers for everyone else I can even think of and pouring out love to anyone who will accept it and hopefully I will have a true thing to share that is only learned at this hour. . this is the gift of my Dads passing away in front of my eyes. I notice what is important in the last moments.