Up close and personal

Recently I wrote a post about death and the nature of its inevitability.  Last week was one of the many times death sat next to me.  My aunt the last remaining sibling of my father clings to life by a thin thread.  Her last breath could come any moment as I write.  I sit by her bed watching her chest rise up and down while I hold her sweaty icy hand.  If my stare could  bore a hole she would have one in the side of her face.  I never take my eyes off of her face.  I become fixated watching the changes of impending death.  I listen with awe as she calls out for her mother who has been dead for over 40 years.  I feel the energy of the spirits gather and she feels it as well.   I look at her skeletal face with deep sunken eyes, this is no longer the robust body that had served hot mac and cheese from her stove.  This is not the robust energetic woman who loved nothing more than a house full of family and the chaos that followed.  I watch her and feel her leaving a little bit more with each breath.  I also watch my father as he strokes her face and breaks down in a torrent of tears as he clutches her hand.  They have always been close often telling a story of sharing the same108736-800x533r1-angel8  dress as children.  Being in a family of share croppers, money was tight and clothing was even tighter.  My father knows death is imminent.  He leaves the room to regain his composure as I sit steadfastly by the bed and wait.  Death is on its way and we will all grieve.

About mingming56

sculptor, adventurer and all around bon vivant
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