The Art of Dying

The art of dying requires a certain finesse. There are prescribed and predicted symptoms that each terminal person may go through, but each of us our own way of ending the journey.

Charlie died less than 2 hours ago. We knew he’d be going soon, but the nurses told us we had hours left. My gut said, it’s time…but we began to talk about taking mom home for an hour or so.

Twenty minutes later, Sue, Fay and I stroked him and talked to him as he took his last breath.

He died well.

He died quietly with no pomp. 

He died with the sunlight and beautiful warm breeze blowing in on him from the open French doors in his room. The nurses had faced his bed to the door and pushed him close to the outdoors.  He hadn’t been outside in weeks…it was perfect.

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