hospice
He was an
intelligent whitty pistol.
He was playing chess when I met him. We walked back
to his room for a visit while his chess mates where heckling him. He liked the
attention. We visited for only a short time I don’t even remember what we
talked about only that I held his hand as he talked and in my mind I would
imagine love flowing from my heart to his. I loved doing this, it would make the
visits so pleasant.
I visited only three times and that was it, he was gone.
The
night William died I dreamt about him.
I was walking into his room
delivering daisies, his favorite flower. He got out of his bed and thanked me for coming then walked to the door and said it was time to go. We smiled at eachother and
that was it.
I
woke from the dream to see it was 3:12am
The
next day I went to visit with daisies and I was informed that William had died
in the night some time after 3am.
His
son was in the same facility with
parkinsons disease. He died two weeks later. My thoughts were he wanted to be
with dad. They were just waiting for each other.
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