thinking of allison

This morning NPR had a really special segment on death and hospice. I had tears at the end of listening to it. The hospice worker featured said he got into hospice because he saw so many people dying alone in hospitals. Hospitals, he said, are the worst place to die.

And this just broke my heart. I thought of little Allison in her hospital bed. She was sick for only one month. Nobody thought she was going to die -- despite the terrible diagnosis. Despite the statistics. She was Allison! She was young and vibrant and healthy and, above all else, resilient.

And yet my friend died at the age of 30. In a hospital bed. And this breaks my heart.

And slowly, slowly I think I do come to terms with death. I feel like the last two years have been filled with lessons on it. As if Life is prepping me for the inevitable. (I don't mean that as morbidly as it sounds). Last month I decried it "illegal." A non-option. This month I think I see it as less foreboding. Less cumbersome.

Why am I talking about this on a beautiful Saturday?

Back to work! (I'm working today.)