On wings of light, I fly.
Death, what’s that all about, eh? You live, make friends, go to work, retire and then die. But for me it’s not the end, just the beginning.
This place is filled with sunlight, inappropriate, some might say, for a place of endings, but why not? Why go into the eternal beyond in darkness and pain? The corridors are filled with life: doctors, nurses and patients, hurrying about their business, or shuffling towards the chapel to seek solace.The bright emblem of a daffodil appears throughout the building, a small beacon of courage that sustains us all.
Kindness, respect and compassion are plentiful in this house of retreat for those whose ending is near. Nothing is too much trouble, nothing is beyond our reach. Soft voices soothe and calm, keep you informed and ease your passing.
Well, my time has come on a bright sunny day. I’m glad it’s over. I pause on the threshold of my room and look upon my friends and relatives and count myself a lucky man; I am rich in family and those who feel genuine grief at my departure.
My daughter thanks the nurse for everything they did for me and her reply made my heart swell with pride. ‘You’re welcome. He was a pleasure to look after, a true gentleman.’
I turn to go, take a deep, clear breath, the first in a long time, and on wings of light, I fly towards my destination, where those who have gone before me wait with open arms.
I am content.
This post is dedicated to the wonderful people at Marie Curie hospices.