In the end, it’s just her and I. In a darkened ICU room, as the sun sets.
I reach over every so often to soothe her – she is restless, but mostly now I just sit beside the bed, rubbing her hand.
We journeyed so long, so far, both together and apart. Her illness took her to places that I couldn’t fathom and couldn’t go. But, this. I can do this. This is your last job as a daughter, the last fealty you owe someone, whatever you thought of them.
We have ended treatment, removed tubes. I am waiting for people to come and say goodbye, I have made phone calls, the chaplain and I read the prayers for the dying, and now I sit and watch.
She opens her eyes, stares at me, but she does not recognize me. ?The journey has already started. I am simply here to bear witness. She taught me that no one is ever born alone, and no one should die alone. I will stay watching the very last of journey’s, until she is at the end. I will send my prayers for peace and a lack of pain. I pray that she is not frightened. That some part of her knows she is not alone. That she will not be alone for a moment. I will be here, and then in the words of my faith, that glorious company of angels will sing her home.