More Real Than Any Dream

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I work with death. I feel its presence, but life goes on until it doesn’t. The women I care for are near the end of this journey. Still, each day meals must be made, clothes must be washed, and make up must be put on. Game shows must be watched, memories must be revisited, and terror must be banished if only for a little while. It is night now. I hold a sobbing woman in my arms, comforting her. She is close to her end and is beginning to realize it. She will likely be the next to die. Every possession is gone, already divided between quarreling children. Pain fills every moment. Even her memories have been stolen. But she is still afraid. I rock her stroking her hair. “Everything will really be all right” I say, “Trust me.” She looks into my eyes and sees I really believe it. “I am scared.” I don’t answer. I simply smile and squeeze her hand. I wish I could explain, but I can’t. No matter. She will know soon enough. As her sobs begin to slow, I tuck her back into bed and remember. It was Halloween night and very cold. I was bound. I was completely powerless and did not know what was going to happen. I did not know where I was and could not see. I was terrified. My screams and pleas to stop were ignored, and the pain was unbearable. It went on forever. At some point the fear faded. There was no more pain. I could hear a voice, but words no longer made sense. Though I was blindfolded, I found myself looking around a room I had never seen. I saw my body, still bound. I could hear my hoarse cries but was not aware of making any noise. I tried to speak but couldn’t. I was confused and worried. A moment later, I was drawn away from this scene and felt myself lifting. The world lost focus, an... ... middle of paper ... ...ave remained there forever. No hesitation. No regrets. The memory of absolute bliss remains. I have tried to explain the essence of this before. I failed. I might as well attempt describing a beautiful sunset to a man born blind. I accept what it means to me. That will just have to do. As I sit on the side of the bed watching this woman finally drift off to sleep, I feel sad. Not because she will die, but because I wish I could dispel her fear and help her understand the peace and joy. However, that is her new journey to discover. Everything she ever was, ever had, and ever did does not matter anymore. It is not the end. It is becoming “more”. I turn off the lamp and quietly leave her room. The others are sleeping peacefully for now. Death is elsewhere, for a while. I lie down on the bed in the office and drift back off to sleep, still smiling.

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