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end of an era

paul died on friday, late afternoon.

i wasn't there when he passed away - i'd nipped home from the hospice to catch an hour of sleep. his slow rhythmic breathing had sent me drifting off time and time again at the hospice, and we hadn't known how long he would have. shortly after i woke up, the phone call came through.

he slept through to the end, with my mum patiently sat by his side. and then he took an unexpected deep breath - opened his eyes for the first time in hours and hours, looked all around him with a smile on his face, and then closed his eyes and that was it. sounds like something out of a film. he had no pain in the end, at least.

i saw him, after the staff cleaned him and laid his body out neatly. they tucked him into bed, and laid some chartreuse carnations next to his head. by the time i saw him, he was very yellow. i held his hand. it felt soft and cold, but his hands had been cold for days as his body began to shut down. his hands were so delicate, so smooth and soft. i studied him, watched him intently. expecting some movement - breathing, snuffling, signs of sleep. he just looked so still that my eyes kept tricking me into thinking it was simply a deep sleep. but he had gone. he felt very present in the room, and then suddenly the room felt empty.

i have a lot more thoughts on this, but not the energy nor the composure to write them down just yet.


kodamas miyazaki
do you really feel alive without me?

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