Lingering and Waiting

A chill hovers over Chicagoland, though the sky is clear, with only a few high clouds. At 5 degrees, the air outside is stiff and hard to breathe, forcing one to move quickly, lingering only to move from the car to other warm quarters. The dead of winter lingers, yet the hope of spring is visible by looking upward toward the heavens at the bright blue sunny sky.

Val continues to linger, wishing she could move on, afraid to stay longer. Pharmaceuticals have diminished the pain so at the worst it is tolerable, and at the best, absent. In and out during the day, she eats nothing, sucking ice chips or an occasional straw in lemon water. Cognitively she is here, talking of previous joys, and wondering when the end will finally come. Emotionally she is rock solid, joking about the circumstances and wondering when "the bus will come" to pick her up. In November she looked happy and healthy, attending a lecture by Chicago's caterers and book authors, The Hearty Boys.

Friendship is many things -- being together for over 20 years, we have laughed, mourned, birthdayed, galaed, dieted, whispered, cried and sat quietly together. I've learned so much from Val over the years, and now watching her rest, the lessons continue. Unbeknownst to her, Val continues to lead and continues to love as she teaches all of us how to die with dignity, a peaceful heart, and a loving husband. And while a chill hovers over Chicagoland, there is only warmth and love as we sit and wait for the bus.

Photo attribution: somewhatfortyplus