Visiting you I see how the dementia feeds off of your brain daily, as though you are its meal. When you come back to me in unannounced moments, your eyes clear themselves from the muck and the most beautiful light blue pierces me. Your body has withered and its function is slowing, too fast for my liking.
I kiss you and hold you as tight as I’m able without hurting your frail body. This is my last visit, the last time I’ll see you until it’s my turn to go see the Lord. I will cry, I am crying. I will celebrate, in my heart I am celebrating. Your time is near, your loved ones come to see you one final time. And as your beloved’s heart breaks, you will pass before her into the arms of Jesus.
Keystroke Stories 