Here, Now and After
By Rick Davis
Glenwood Springs
Editor’s note: Rick is a chaplain for a local hospice.
Spending time with someone as they are dying is such a sacred-humbling experience, walking with them to the gate, standing there with them as they prepare to leave all they know and embrace something new.
It was obvious that you were dying,
the human body takes certain shifts as it gets closer to death.
The face changes, mostly around the eyes and the mouth.
Your breathing was slower with long pauses in between.
I held your hand and spoke to you.
I spoke of love and of light, describing how it filled you, was around you.
I told you there was no need to fear, that this was as natural as being born.
Birth and death, forever connected.
At times you squeezed my hand, so different than the tremors your body had,
the squeeze felt intentional.
I found myself breathing with you,
long slow breaths, a longer pause.
I watched your chest rise and settle, longer moments.
Was this it, you last breath, and then you took another breath,
hanging on to life.
The body does not want to let go, does it?
“It’s okay” I said, I am here, you are not alone,
another squeeze of my hand.
I spoke of what I imagined comes next, stepping into great love,
being greeted by family and friends, a welcoming and a celebration.
You made it, they said, smiles and hugs greet us,
tears of joy and laughter meet us.
Welcome home.
I Love Fondue!
By Deborah Holt Williams
Glenwood Springs
Sacre Bleu, I love fondue!
Cheese, white wine and nutmeg, too.
Brandy, lemon, Dijon mustard,
Whisk it til it’s smooth as custard.
When the mix is bubbling hot,
Swirl some bread around the pot.
A fork for me, a fork for you.
A meal that’s fun to share—fondue!