I think I knew he was dying before he realized he was sick.
It was the middle of September, and my last week of dancing. I knew I wouldnt be seeing a lot of faces for a while. Inside, friends and clients were calling my name to get a drink, but I also knew I couldnt drink alcohol anymore and I sensed something outside.
Seeking a brief respite from the music and laughing, I skipped to the back yard patio. I found the Old Man there, sitting in a low chair by the fire. He was alone.
The Old Man didnt look any different. I asked how he felt.
He simply told me that he was tired, and switched the topic to astrology. I dont pay that stuff any mind, but I nodded and allowed his words to wash over me, watching him speak.
Suddenly, I felt sadness. I wondered if I would ever see him again.
Yesterday morning I was standing in the door of the empty nursery, when I thought to ask about him. Into my phone, I typed an inquiry, from one of the only people who would know, the Owner. I received a response, more immediately than usual.
It was twenty minutes later that I was at the side of his hospital bed.
The nurse was showing him how to change the parts to his feeding tube, inserted pointedly into his stomach. He had lost weight, more in two months of not being able to eat, than I had gained in my five months of pregnancy. He looked a lifetime older.
He didn't seem surprised to see me, but only very relieved.
He studied my belly, "You're looking healthy."
I dragged the visitor's chair from the hallway and closed the door before sitting down.
"Well, I wish I could say the same about you, mister."
He laughed. He told me he was dying. Perhaps treatable, but inoperable. And he wasn't strong enough for chemotherapy. The stomach cancer came as a surprise, but the fact that it had traveled to his esophagus so quickly was startling.
I glanced at the blood stain on his hospital gown.
"Truthfully, I'm a little frustrated. I'm not ready to die. I'm a dancer too, you know. Not of the stage, like you, but....of life. I like people. I have more to do....there's no point in being frustrated at God, because if I can't fight this then I should surely accept it."
I blinked back tears, he knows I don't have a God.
He continued, and took my hand.
"What is death? I have no idea, so I can't be afraid of it. It could be the answer. It's the pain, that is becoming unbearable."
He stopped to cough, and I felt Raven move inside me.
"I guess it makes sense....I've told you before, that we must be connected on a spiritual level. Not just in this life. And you are bringing someone new in, so it might keep the balance if I check out."
My throat tightened and I was furiously blinking. I took my hand from his, and wiped my face with my sleeve.
I spent an hour with The Old Man.
His case-worker knocked and slowly opened the door. She waited patiently while I hugged him gently.
It won't be the last time, I'll be back.
I held my sobs until I was alone in my car. Took a breath to drive home, and finished sobbing at the kitchen table. My eyes still hurt today.
Love,
Casper-Elle
It was the middle of September, and my last week of dancing. I knew I wouldnt be seeing a lot of faces for a while. Inside, friends and clients were calling my name to get a drink, but I also knew I couldnt drink alcohol anymore and I sensed something outside.
Seeking a brief respite from the music and laughing, I skipped to the back yard patio. I found the Old Man there, sitting in a low chair by the fire. He was alone.
The Old Man didnt look any different. I asked how he felt.
He simply told me that he was tired, and switched the topic to astrology. I dont pay that stuff any mind, but I nodded and allowed his words to wash over me, watching him speak.
Suddenly, I felt sadness. I wondered if I would ever see him again.
Yesterday morning I was standing in the door of the empty nursery, when I thought to ask about him. Into my phone, I typed an inquiry, from one of the only people who would know, the Owner. I received a response, more immediately than usual.
It was twenty minutes later that I was at the side of his hospital bed.
The nurse was showing him how to change the parts to his feeding tube, inserted pointedly into his stomach. He had lost weight, more in two months of not being able to eat, than I had gained in my five months of pregnancy. He looked a lifetime older.
He didn't seem surprised to see me, but only very relieved.
He studied my belly, "You're looking healthy."
I dragged the visitor's chair from the hallway and closed the door before sitting down.
"Well, I wish I could say the same about you, mister."
He laughed. He told me he was dying. Perhaps treatable, but inoperable. And he wasn't strong enough for chemotherapy. The stomach cancer came as a surprise, but the fact that it had traveled to his esophagus so quickly was startling.
I glanced at the blood stain on his hospital gown.
"Truthfully, I'm a little frustrated. I'm not ready to die. I'm a dancer too, you know. Not of the stage, like you, but....of life. I like people. I have more to do....there's no point in being frustrated at God, because if I can't fight this then I should surely accept it."
I blinked back tears, he knows I don't have a God.
He continued, and took my hand.
"What is death? I have no idea, so I can't be afraid of it. It could be the answer. It's the pain, that is becoming unbearable."
He stopped to cough, and I felt Raven move inside me.
"I guess it makes sense....I've told you before, that we must be connected on a spiritual level. Not just in this life. And you are bringing someone new in, so it might keep the balance if I check out."
My throat tightened and I was furiously blinking. I took my hand from his, and wiped my face with my sleeve.
I spent an hour with The Old Man.
His case-worker knocked and slowly opened the door. She waited patiently while I hugged him gently.
It won't be the last time, I'll be back.
I held my sobs until I was alone in my car. Took a breath to drive home, and finished sobbing at the kitchen table. My eyes still hurt today.
Love,
Casper-Elle
VIEW 25 of 43 COMMENTS
You are extremely lucky to have had such a spiritual connection to someone and was able to be there for them near their last days...