Today I was one with a family, sitting at the bedside of a dying man. We talked about life—the man’s life, our own lives, memories, current events, all the things that make up a reflection and a sharing of living. We laughed. We expressed our gratitude that death would mean an end to this man’s unpleasant times. His family cried.
When a family gathers awaiting death, they continue to live, they joke, they ask questions, they remember. Memories of other times come to mind and, although the family members are sad, they smile. Their tears are ones of love . . . and filled with living.
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