Today I find myself pondering life and death. It has a way of sneaking into your thoughts when you are sitting bed side, listening to the slowing breaths, of a man you have known for 37 years.
This man gave me my first job, took my back packing, helped me move, painted my homes, and trusted me with his daughter. His life was full of living, being generous, and loving others. It was also full of painful knees, battling Alzheimer's and in the last year, his own frailty. As I sit next to him I wonder if he feels he lived well, if he has any unfinished business? Are there things he would like to do over or do again? Would he have taken a different career path, stayed home more, or maybe less? Did he answer all the questions he had about life, is he ready for what is next? I would ask him but he is no longer talking, not recognizing, only fighting for each breath. We are no longer counting years, months or days, we are counting hours of a man who has impacted those most important to me, each of my children, my wife, and my self. Thank you!
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