Out of kilter

I have discovered that this dying process had created a great imbalance. I am still mourning for Margaret and my dear sister-in-law, Bev, and from letters and conversations with friends I have gathered that I will be missed in much the same way. 

But, I am losing all my good friends, and that's only the half of it. I have lived in this house and garden for twenty years, leaving it since 1999 only twice. In all those years, I have loved the light through the leaves in the changing seasons and at different times of day, that will also go, as will my pets, the books and music that have sustained my life. And even more difficult, I will be losing my memories like the ones of Paul's first breath, his first sneeze and his first yawn. 

You might ask why, in that case, I need to die. But, as it turns out, my weight loss has become so excessive that my key nurse is quite sure I won't make it through to September anyway and I will be also losing the pain, the blurred and cataracted sight and the endurance which I have become too fragile to cope with.