hours to days

The nurse came this morning, listened to David breathing and looked at him. She then shared that she thinks we have hours to days till he makes his transition.

Also this morning I received by email a poem that Joanne Moesswilde wrote after being here Friday night. David had just heard that Lucretia was in labor, and the baby was on its way. Joanne stood David up to help him to the commode, and what ensued was a beautiful exchange of two people who have loved each other a long time, and danced many many dances together. I'll let the poem tell the story. Leave it to David to dance his way out of this world!!

when bed to chair transfer becomes a dance

your bony arms resting on my shoulders

as you use my body to stand up

on your thin legs.

going from bed to chair, now a long process for you.

we stand face to face

your lost eyes look for an answer;

i say, "like we are dancing, david."

and then comes a smile so big on your now thin face

your eyes light up in focused gaze,

we are dancing on the wooden dance floor again;

a little tune comes humming from your dry and frail lips

now brought back to life with laughter and a playful click

your left hand takes my right

in proper ballroom style our bodies sway

and every dance we ever had is repeated and recalled

here in this 90 second dance

as we transfer from bed to chair