AND SO DO I

Jack, my cousin, was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease or ALS two and a half months ago. He is living in an Assisted Living Facility in order to get the twenty-four hour care he so needs.

My husband and I visited Jack two days ago after not seeing him for a few weeks. He went through a week or two where he requested no visits. It was so hard not to be able to visit him. Last week, he again was ready for visitors. I was stressed on the ninety minute drive there as I did not know how he would be. He was declining daily and becoming weaker all of the time. I wanted to say the right things, but did not know what that would be.

The moment I walked into his room and saw him, relief suddenly surrounded me. He is still Jack one hundred percent and will always be. He was lying in his recliner. I pulled a chair over next to him and held his hand.

He spoke about his dying through tears. We both spoke about life, love and death. Each of us communicated with our hearts. We were so connected which did not surprise me. The two of us have been close our entire lives. After we left, I felt so blessed knowing how much we love each other; and were able to express it to each other during these forty-five special minutes.

I did not know that it would be our last time together. But now looking back, the conversation expressed love, life, death and goodbyes in an amazing way.

Jack died last night at 11pm. I was surprised, but also feel relief as he is no longer suffering. I shared with him how his legacy to me was how the two of us would frequently laugh so hard together.

God bless you dear Jack. You were so much more than my cousin. You were my brother, my best friend. I know we will be together again. Peace.


AND SO DO I　

I was so stressed on the way there.
What would I see; how would he be?
Relief embraced me as I walked in
as he was, as always, so beautifully him.

I sat down next to him holding his hand.
We held our hands tight the entire time.
He needed to talk; to share his truth;
          and so did I.

He is declining daily.
Weakness is the one in charge.
He can no longer walk or even hold a glass.
Dependency fills his days.

He spoke about the End-of-Life Act.
That is an option he may have.
"If it is that or this disease,
I am still dying. Nothing will change."

Tears flowed as we spoke about love
and the importance of those around.
He is not yet ready to leave this earth;
          and neither am I.

His journey has been rough.
Likely there is more to come.
He wants to find his peace; his happiness.
          For him; so do I.