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Still

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Still

I am sitting at the foot of the hospital bed of my friend who’s been suffering for the last several weeks. The room is quiet except for the loud hum of a pump which is pulling toxins from his body and the oxygen machine, both attached to him. He’s still, trying to find the sleep which eluded him last night. He received a pain shot from a nurse a few moments ago and hopefully, this affords him a quiet mind and a less painful body for a while.

He looks weak, not at all the man I’ve known for most of my life. I know him and if he could leave this place he would in a moment, hospital gown and all. In fact last night someone asked him if they could do anything for him and he quipped; “Trade places with me.” I smiled and thought; “Be careful what you ask for…” It’s theseĀ little jokes he still manages that show me he’s still fighting, still holding on, still not ready to take his final steps into eternity.

His legs twitch while he tries to nap. I wonder if they are the result of a dream? Perhaps a time when we were hiking on the AppalachianĀ trail or playing T-Ball, maybe it was working on a construction project at his home. I hope it’s good dreams and brings him happiness, even in sleep.

Still. Still hanging on. Still suffering. Still funny. Still hoping. Still trusting the path to what’s next is not too difficult.

blessings,
@BrianLoging
thewannabesaint.com

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