the most important thing

 

08 Across the Sea

 

i held a dying man's hand for over four hours yesterday. it felt like the most important thing i've ever done in my life.

we've been living in a state of altered reality for days. the quick decline of sasa's father, the way his family cared for him in his own home, the way we were all there for him...they are things that can put all of life into prespective.

my sleep has been in and out. so aware of where he is in this process. i would wake up in another world all through the night, in my own bed, but somehow him right by my side telling me what he needed and when he was going.

there was something about the ending of his life that awakened ours. the hours spent holding his hand were the most peaceful hours i've ever felt before. all i needed to do was be there, hold is hand, and put every ounce of peace and strength i had in me out for him. the presence was remarkable and seemed like magic.

i will miss him. i will miss his love of the ocean, the way he poked fun at me, how he used to love getting me tipsy on his favorite wine, how he was someone who would always take care of us, the joy he felt to have elisabeth in his life, the way he mowed his lawn "just so", and mostly, the love for his family.

it was an honor and a pleasure to have him be a part of my life. it was an honor and a pleasure helping him move on to what's next. it has changed my life forever. he changed my life forever. thank you, grandpa.

 

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

 

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

 

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

 

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

 

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

 

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

 

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

 

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

 

~ Mary Oliver ~