it’s really about living
May 17, 2012 at 2:17 am (being remembered, dying, how does it feel to die, living) (death, dying, how does it feel to die, native american quote death, white elk, writing about dying)
yesterday we went to a little restaurant in town and we know a couple of the servers pretty well. one is a lovely young woman who recently graduated with her BA. she wants to be a writer or at least that seems to be her goal at present. after being through a particularly difficult period we had gone to the grill for dinner and the conversation went to why we had not been in for such a long period. for people we have a long-term acquaintance with it seems fair to mention that one day he may be on his own. for me it is another attempt to protect him in future. if people know, then he will not have to explain what has happened. it will be enough that i am just not with him.
she is working as a ghost writer for a couple of online companies. the hope is to someday write her book and we believe she will. there has been mention of this blog and the content. after speaking with her last night I realized that if asked my brief reply is, it is about dying. on the way home i wondered why i referred to it in that context. yes, in my mind it was going to be about what it feels like to be dying. my hope was to let some light shine on the subject. having cared for countless terminal patients, during my nursing years, many expressed regret at not talking to their family more about what they were feeling. this is an opportunity to share after i am gone. in reading this he will be re-assured that i adore him. anytime he wants he can read these entries and know that i felt blessed to have such a gracious loving man.
even as my thoughts are forming, an outline of activity or inspiration for a new post, the act of living distracts me. there is more about life here than death and that is maybe the key for me. this is more about continuing to live the life i can be most proud of and to ease the road of life for my loved ones when they are on the road without me.
from White Elk:
when you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced
live your life so that when you die the world cries and you rejoice
