My mind is very much on our dear friends this morning. Last night. All day.
His time is at hand. The family has gathered and he sits, half-propped and covered with a light blanket, in a hospice facility in the city. Thank God for hospice.
I can't begin to imagine the endless well of compassion that hospice workers must have. Those kind people go to work every day and know that their whole day will be filled with people in pain, sad loved ones, hard decisions, tears, partings and death.
Death. They help people onto the launch pad, keep them as comfortable as possible, help them maintain the shadow of a shred of a memory of dignity that may be left to them (or at least put up a good semblance of dignity with smoke and mirrors) and they comfort the loved ones keeping vigil, who are often also in a different kind of trauma.
The hospice nurse last night said, "I think there's a bit of a journey ahead." That was a lovely way to say a very difficult thing. Bless her for her tact and sensitivity. Bless our sweet friends and their loved ones on this journey.
And thank God for hospice.