It’s hard to watch someone slowly fade into death. But it’s not that slow because you have time to notice how thin their face is and yellow their skin looks and confused their eyes look, when they’re open. Hospice is just the cruel cousin of assisted suicide. You hope the drugs are at all the right doses so that your loved one can’t feel death pull and twist their insides.

It’s miserable watching someone lose their parent, child, spouse, friend. Not able to touch them. Not able to hold them in their arms. Not able to squeeze their hand or whisper in their ear. Someone covered in plastic, praying they make it home to their own families, holds your loved one in their arms. I semi quarantined myself with my parents. I go there to work & eat and then I go home to my house. So I was there when she couldn’t hug her grandchildren. I was there when she couldn’t fly to her father’s side. I took the hugs and the hand holding and the concerns and ran the meetings so she could say, “Dad, remember when” and share her stories. Remember when you walked into the ocean. Remember when. The hardest was always, “Dad, open your eyes.”

But never having the chance to say goodbye, that would be gut wrenching.

I want to march. I want to be out there. It’s not the time to sit still. It’s not the time to use my words. At the same time, I can’t bring a virus to my still grieving family. So I go out in the world and try to be a force for good. Petition. Call. Vote. Send love.

I’m a sunflower standing tall, leaning, looking for the light to spread my leaves. Stay in the light. Then radiate the light. Glow. Lift up. Support. Stand strong.

And after listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, we must stare.  We must sing.  We must run.  We must plunge.

And then we'll get down there
Way down to the very bottom of everything
And then we'll see it, we'll see it, we'll see it

Labels: At the Bottom of Everything, be positive, be present, be the good, Bright Eyes, Neutral Milk Hotel, Turn Back Into You