Two Faces
It has hit me hard tonight. Death. It is inevitable. It is the last train we are all to catch, there is no missing it. You already have your ticket, you are just waiting to get it punched and climb aboard.
I have seen it before. Some say I cheated it, others say I still am. I tell you that it is easier to face alone. I have said that I do not fear it, rather that I welcome it. I have come to the realization and internal peace that Death will take me, yet when I see it knocking at the doors of those I cherish, I fear deeply. It paralyzes me.
I was immune from it for many years. I heard of others taking that final train, but I never knew them, I only knew of them. Then I grew older.
The train comes closer.
I've seen it stop at those near to me.
I heard its whistle nearing my friends home tonight.
This friend of mine was one whom I never thought would go, even though I knew he had to. He was a legend in my mind. I never saw him aging. All my other friends I could see age, deteriorate, not him. Tonight though, when I saw him he looked old. Not to diminish him in any way, but he was an old man. He had a hard time talking, an even harder time breathing. He fell short of breath half way through a sentance. He tired to hold a conversation but it was obviously difficult. He had this and that machine at his bedside. It hurt me. It cut me deep. But who am I? It isn't me holding out my ticket to be punched. Yet it still hurts. It scars. It is another friend lost, kept only in memory among the great ones who have tread similar paths.
But this tale has two faces. This month also brought me joy and delight. I had the fine chance to meet with with another dear friend who had moved from the lake of salt. He moved back home to recieve better care, and he certainly did get it.
I was away for a couple of years and in that time this gentleman recieved a double lung transplant. A remarkable feat to achieve. Credit to the medical experts who have helped him, (but even more credit to his wife). He is much the same as I recall him, yet totally different. He decided to trade in his ticket for a late train, and for that we are all gald.
We had a fantastic visit while he and his wife were in town. As always they both were so full of knowledge. This time however, I was eager to hear it.
Marriage, is something that they have been going at for a while, longer than I've been around anyway. Not just any marriage. Marriage to a CFer. They have had their ups and downs-medically I speak, and so it was a joy to hear their adivce.
Thank you for the visit.
I get so caught up in the rigors and stresses of day to day, getting this or that done. It all seems so futile to waste time and energy on the things that dont matter. Unfortunatly, it is something that I catch myself doing all the time. A cycle that only seems to break when the you hear the train nearing.
I have seen it before. Some say I cheated it, others say I still am. I tell you that it is easier to face alone. I have said that I do not fear it, rather that I welcome it. I have come to the realization and internal peace that Death will take me, yet when I see it knocking at the doors of those I cherish, I fear deeply. It paralyzes me.
I was immune from it for many years. I heard of others taking that final train, but I never knew them, I only knew of them. Then I grew older.
The train comes closer.
I've seen it stop at those near to me.
I heard its whistle nearing my friends home tonight.
This friend of mine was one whom I never thought would go, even though I knew he had to. He was a legend in my mind. I never saw him aging. All my other friends I could see age, deteriorate, not him. Tonight though, when I saw him he looked old. Not to diminish him in any way, but he was an old man. He had a hard time talking, an even harder time breathing. He fell short of breath half way through a sentance. He tired to hold a conversation but it was obviously difficult. He had this and that machine at his bedside. It hurt me. It cut me deep. But who am I? It isn't me holding out my ticket to be punched. Yet it still hurts. It scars. It is another friend lost, kept only in memory among the great ones who have tread similar paths.
But this tale has two faces. This month also brought me joy and delight. I had the fine chance to meet with with another dear friend who had moved from the lake of salt. He moved back home to recieve better care, and he certainly did get it.
I was away for a couple of years and in that time this gentleman recieved a double lung transplant. A remarkable feat to achieve. Credit to the medical experts who have helped him, (but even more credit to his wife). He is much the same as I recall him, yet totally different. He decided to trade in his ticket for a late train, and for that we are all gald.
We had a fantastic visit while he and his wife were in town. As always they both were so full of knowledge. This time however, I was eager to hear it.
Marriage, is something that they have been going at for a while, longer than I've been around anyway. Not just any marriage. Marriage to a CFer. They have had their ups and downs-medically I speak, and so it was a joy to hear their adivce.
Thank you for the visit.
I get so caught up in the rigors and stresses of day to day, getting this or that done. It all seems so futile to waste time and energy on the things that dont matter. Unfortunatly, it is something that I catch myself doing all the time. A cycle that only seems to break when the you hear the train nearing.
posted by Colin at 8:11 PM
2 Comments:
Keep this up. It's important. It's legacy. It's a chronicle. It's a history.
Very glad to make your acquaintance.
Allen
www.lizzielulu.com
Marriage and CF are something that can hardly be accurately described unless you're in it. I hope that when my book "Dear Future Husband" comes out, it will encourage those with CF who think that marriage is not something they'll get to experience. I hope also that it will be a fitting description of what a healthy marriage is.
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