Quite the day.
A dear friend of my son, just entering hospice two weeks ago, died tonight. His grand daughter, his sweet girl, is asleep right now, she works nights (graveyard) and doesn’t know yet. She will be up soon. My son is headed to be with her.
One of those warriors, you know the type…the type that was sent to Iraq and Afghanistan for four tours flipped out today and is in police custody. I had him as an employee several times and saw a gradual, apparent decline in judgement. He was bringing weapons to work, I had to let him go about a year ago. I sought counseling resources for him afterwards and tried to stay in touch with him. He tried too. Of late, I had not. He reached a critical point. He saw, he felt, he remembers too much. Do you know what that is like?
Tonight, as I sat with my aunt, she never came to. She twisted this way and that. Her legs kicked, her arms flailed, her shoulders turned toward me and away. This agitation has several causes and indicates a few things, to include the approaching end. I won’t venture a guess. Remember, I am not going there again. Skin temp roasting, a bit of gurgling, no response to voice or touch.
Let this day be over…… Or, should I say peace to the living, the departed. Bless them all.