Someone Dear Is Dying

Yesterday, the world’s energy was in disarray.  It was warm, it was grey. The rain, when it came, either took its time or it lashed furiously, drowning the backyard, crashing against the grey stucco walls.

There were interludes of calm when the sun splintered the clouds and the window screens sparkled with rain drops.  But, for the most part, it was a furious wet day.

It was another day when I left the dogs at home.

I spent the morning with a friend who’s transforming her business from the more traditional, administrative-secretarial business to that of a Virtual Assistant – in other words: a VA.

She’s excited about what she’s doing and we spent two hours talking about how to re-write the content on her web site so that the online business world Sits Up And Takes  Notice that Lisa Riggi is In The House.

I’m excited for her and can’t wait to see the redesign of her online presence.  And, even more exciting is to see and celebrate her. She’s more aligned with her purpose – her energy is quietly vibrating – all of her chakras  hum.

By the time we finished our meeting, the first serious rain of the day had begun.  I drove to the gym listening to the slap of windshield wipers against glass.

An hour later, when I walked out of the gym, the sun was drying things off — the sky was almost a pearl grey and it was warm.  Ten minutes later, pulling into my garage, the winds had begun to whip things up and the the rains roared back.

The rest of the afternoon was a wet monsoon,  muting outside sounds as the world turned in on itself.

Inside the house, I settled the dogs, put stuff away, went upstairs to check emails and found myself reading this from a family friend:

I just wanted to let you know that J. is now in critical condition.  He has developed diabetic keloacidosis which is fatal. 

He has stated repeatedly that he does not want any life saving interventions – as difficult as it is; we are abiding by his wishes. 

He is receiving palliative care only including pain medication.  His doctor said that left untreated the keloacidosis is fatal within 24-48 hours.  I was at the hospital with him yesterday and he mostly slept; took a little fluids; no food.

I will let you know when the time comes . . .

My husband and I knew that this time was coming. But, the knowing doesn’t make it an easy thing to hear.  Yesterday, around 1;30PM, I called A. and read the email to him over the phone.

Around us, the winds, the rain – the world’s energy threw itself into a vortex of wildness.  Hearts breaking, we settled in to wait.



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