The Dying Space

The Dying Space…

I don’t know how to master the art of losing friends, family, loved ones – even from a far.

My mind races 100,000 miles to recapture every moment I know I will never have again.
Relive every second of every memory to keep them closer to me.  It’s selfish I know.
Selfish of me to wish them to stay, for me, just because I love them so… even when I don’t know it.
It doesn’t matter, animal or human; it seems to hurt the same, sometimes in illogical order.
But there is nothing as sad as seeing a slow, painful death – even as an onlooker it kills pieces of you & takes you with it.

To see the body or mind betray itself, give up the fight to disease, and let all humanness go.

I never know what to do with my grief.  It sits in my the pit of my stomach, the back of my throat,
The center of my head, the back of my thoughts… even quiet, it’s waiting to be touched upon & surface.    It’s easier to break a bone than deal with grief.  You can mourn the pain, care for it & know that it will Heal.  But only time heals grief & time can be a slow, slow friend that doesn’t make it easy for you.

Sometimes I feel betrayed when years later I still feel the pain, & wonder how time could be anyone’s friend.     But then when I sit here & watch my loved one dying all I want is Time.  I would give anything for more time.  Sitting in that space, is such a painful, lonely place to be.   The dying space, when you see the inevitable, & can do nothing about it.  Words of comfort to yourself & loved ones float in & out, but only hold a temporary meaning next to grief.  Coming in waves – crashing into your mind of all the moments you will lose.  And then, a calmness, as if the storm has stopped & the ocean is still, & all the Love & hope & memories float by gently caressing your head.
I wish it could stay like that.  I wish I could caress my loved ones souls.  I wish they knew how much I cared and mourn for them.  I wish I knew I would see them again.  I wish, I wish, I wish.

But right now I am in the dying space.  Neither in or out of the woods.  Waiting to find the path to carry me on.  To be strong.  To be comforting.  To my friend in the dying space of his own.  A small quiet space with lots of soft things, and tranquil touches.  But I think he knows as we all do, that ugly thing that we can’t define is here and he is in his dying space.  And all I feel I can do is watch.  Watch the kindness & vitality leave, & watch uncertainty take its place.

I wish I could squeeze all the love & life back into him.  I wish he could know the power of my love for him. I can only hope.  I can only wish this.  Wish this will end before I can’t breathe anymore.

Till then I will wait in the dying space for morning to clear my blurry eyes and help me do the right thing.