Vigil

The hardest part of sitting vigil while a person slowly retreats from this life is...sitting vigil. With both of my parents, I recall having to sleep, needing to finally go home and rest. I couldn't do it - I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, weeping, praying, waiting any second for the phone to ring. For some unknown cosmic reason, as if I willed it, the phone would ring and I would jump and grab the handset and there was this horror when I realized it was a wrong number at four in the morning.

This weekend we sit vigil for a beloved brother-in-law, the husband of D's older sister. BW is a strong man, a kind one, a truly giving Christian man. I point out his beliefs because he and I sometimes battled. In the end, I could not help but feel a slight envy at his faith.

Today, he is on our minds. We wait, we worry, we hope that some miracle will change the inevitable result of a long battle with diabetes.

School starts on Tuesday - there are things to be done. We've had a wonderful summer, visiting my brother-in-law's only son and family, D&A, in D.C., hanging out by our community pool, going to the beach, staying a week with my sister in Mammoth Lakes.

I have yet to write a thank-you note to D&A in D.C. for their great hospitality. The card waits on the table, the little gift to include. I don't know what to say now that D&A sit vigil in the hospital. I missed my opportunity to express that thanks and now my voice will seem like a drop of rain in the aching storm that for the moment, for now, is their life. Hopefully the words will come.

Godspeed, my dear friend.