Not Much Time Left

I have a friend in hospice. But not for long. When I visited her today she had taken a turn for the worse. Now she is unable to eat anything. I brought her a vanilla shake, the same type she enjoyed 2 weeks prior, but she was unable to take it. Small sips of water was the only thing she wanted. And even that hurt her throat.

That puzzled me. How can breast cancer metastases cause a sore throat? She clarified that swallowing caused back pain. Oh. The esophagus runs down right in front of the spine. And all of her bones are riddled with cancer. I get it.

Her relatives were glad to see me and left me alone with her for a while, though they worried she would be unable to speak to me. I asked if I could read some prayers to her and they thought that would be great. I opened my Jewish Siddur and read the English translation of the prayer I had selected that morning. She nodded that she wanted the prayers and put up with my halting rendition. I told her that I understood that she needed to rest and it was not necessary to talk. And I would just sit with her while she rested.

But then she spoke. Whispered, really. Told me she had something important to tell me and proceeded to say it. She opened watersheds of unspoken topics. I spoke back from my heart, opening my innermost secrets to her as well. I knew she was ready to hear them. She smiled and nodded. It was a good story. Sad at times, but life. When we were done, after about a full hour of quiet talking, her relatives came back in and said she should rest. I said goodbye and kissed her hand. She is in too much pain for a hug.

Now I sit and try to come to terms with my experience. I pray that my words were what she wanted and needed to hear. I pray that she will be relieved of suffering. I pray that she finds peace. My sweet friend. I will miss her until my dying day. She has brought beauty to my life that continues to nourish me. I made that clear. She knows. And she knows I appreciate her.