Mercy, please.

Three long months later, I sit at her bedside re-reading what I’ve written so far. Shocked at the poetical way I was able to describe grief. It’s now so raw as she’s been in the hospital for 13 days, the last 5 on Hospice. 

That means she’ll be gone any time now. Our only responsibilities are to ask for more pain or anxiety medicine for her when she occasionally cries out.

We beg God to show mercy. We’ve been asking Him to quit prolonging this. We sing and cry and tell stories. My sister bought got some extremely ridiculous house shoes. We giggle at each other. We don’t get on each other’s nerves despite being in this small room nearly without end for so long. 

It’ll be over soon.

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