Sorry: the formatting has been bloody lost when I added the Content Warning - on several posts, and I don't have the time to fix them all so I won't fix any.
I wrote this late one night while taking a break from the vigil from my mother's bedside (we shared this duty, so all could have a break from time to time, or tend to our daily duties). It was sribbled on some paper towel, which I've been worried about losing ever since ... I thought I knew death The sharp, sudden of accident the noisome grasp of illness the gentle fade of great age even the violent brute of war, or cime through lives gone past through intimate sharing of medium's tasks through touches from others lives and deaths I thought I knew death but this this death I knew not. Mayhap the nigh unimaginable disbelief of the condemned as their hour approaches comes closest - but they they go in good health. They know not the gargling breath the pause the long, long pause when watchers hold their breath and will to breathe then the twitch the unnerving twitch and one more gurgling almost strangled breath This door they nor I knew not. But no, I do know this door now For I am witness to it I, and my fellow watchers Sitting, conversing sharing the task of holding our dear one's hand this death we share, as witnesses. Share in awkwardness do we talk and make this place light in celebration of life? Or mope show sombre respect. This etiquette we know not. But know we do Our one shared love Our common respect For this dear one Who touched us in so many ways This love We know through even death. © Kayleen White, 2008
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