I got a call from my step mum Carol. Dad has been admitted into hospital with Pneumonia. It’s her birthday today, I can’t imagine she had a good one.
I called Dad, I shouldn’t have, it was late. I don’t even think I meant too, I was going to call Tracy. He sounded weak, and yet strong. Like his human weakness was an inconvenience that must simply be overcome. I fear that at some point that part of him that wills to continue will stumble and fall. Carol is doing a brilliant job of kicking him when he flags. It would seem harsh, but it’s not, because it might be the only thing that keeps him from giving up.
There’ll come a time when all of us must leave here
Then nothing sister Mary can do
Will keep me here with you
As nothing in this life that I’ve been trying
Could equal or surpass the art of dying
Do you believe me?
There’ll come a time when all your hopes are fading
When things that seemed so very plain
Become an awful pain
Searching for the truth among the lying
And answered when you’ve learned the art of dying
But you’re still with me
But if you want it
Then you must find it
But when you have it
There’ll be no need for it
There’ll come a time when most of us return here
Brought back by our desire to be
A perfect entity
Living through a million years of crying
Until you’ve realized the Art of Dying
Do you believe me?
Art of Dying
George Harrison
Posted by lucasdigital as Uncategorized at 12:22 AM BST