Maybe it is because I have lived through so many family deaths and maybe its because John's cancer is always present in our lives, but I know that death hovers just above my left shoulder most days. I laugh at this because it reminds me of the 1960's hippy hero Carlos Castenada--he was required reading along with "Siddhartha" and "Be Here Now" in the yippie canon.
Castenada advised that we let death live on our left shoulder as a friend and to consult with death daily. He meantt this in the most positive way: live as if life is short; make decisions based on that and be slow to anger, quick to forgive and really fast to seek joy. Yeah his joy included hallucinogens--but only in the most spiritual pursuit:)
But death hovers near me and this morning, waking in John's arms, I felt it nearby. One of us will die. Will die first. Then what? How bad will the pain be? For whom will it be hardest? What will the survivor do? Just in that barely awakened state it was all there. And I carried it today.
But tonight I go back to those arms and to that warmth, and yes, to that reality.
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