Bob was my first hospice patient who died last week of end-stage Parkinson's. His family and friends adored him and his death will have powerful reverberations for all who had the good fortune to know this beautiful man. I feel fortunate to have met him toward the end of his journey home.
I miss you. I miss your spirit. I miss the smile you always had on your face. I miss your gentle
nature, your sense of humor inside that almost inert body of yours. I miss your beating heart,
your sweetness. I miss your wife’s attentiveness to you. I miss being with you for those blessed Monday afternoon hours. I believe you were ready to go and you gave all of us time to let you go, but with you goes the best of all of us. I miss your family: the energy of a household filled with support and love.
I miss the drive to Hyde Park, the last words you whispered about shooting the squirrel to solve the birdseed problem, I miss learning about Denmark from your wife, seeing pictures of you training dogs when you were abroad in the service. I miss Turner, the dog. I miss the good feeling that I might have helped you in a small way. I miss your beard trims, your white teeth, your beingness. You were so alive inside yourself. I will always cherish your spirit that shone through no matter what was going on with your physical body. I miss the stories about you and your wife’s courtship and life together.
Those stories were so beautiful: how blessed you were to meet, marry, and have such a loving family. I miss your children’s devotion. I miss Turner jumping on your lap and licking your face. I miss the easy chair and you in it.
When it comes to you, I have nothing but beautiful memories. Your life was my gift. Wherever you are, enjoy the journey to the stars. Keep shining your light so that we may all find our way to you.