Prayeretry

I do not pray for life or death. Only strength. I don’t want to sound down, but Grandpa is probably not going to get much better. They’re bringing in the hospice, and we all know what it means. I am grateful that my family is so full of love. He is surrounded by so much love. And as much as “western society” fears and pushes away death, my family seems to be able to help the dying with the kind of compassion you read about in books of “Eastern thought.” At least that’s the impression of how it went with Grandma. She regained consciousness as Grandpa held her hand and said, “Give me a kiss goodbye,” and he did, and she went. And I know she’s waiting for him.

I pray for my family. Especially Denise and Dad. It is never easy. I hope they all get to say goodbye. I’ve been trying to be there in spirit and thought, sending my writing through cyberspace, because lately, I can only seem to pray in poems… or write poems in the spirit of praying. Tomorrow I might try to record a digital video to send. Since I can’t quite send myself. At least not as quick as email.

It sucks that I have to go to the doctor tomorrow. And class. But I guess it’s better than moping around here. At least I have someone to hold. He really doesn’t play that game all the time. I love you, James.

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