There’s just no getting ready for death

A Meeting in A Part

In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: “How you been?”
He grins and looks at me.
“I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees.”

Wendell Berry


…so I’m getting ready to continue living. In fact, as they slide me in and out of the CT scan machine, while I’m awake with a large needle going through my back to my collapsed lung to gather tissue, I’m going to concentrate on transcending the pain to that place of peach trees and quiet waters. I’m going to visualize my new life stand-up paddle boarding. I’m going to reach through the fog of twilight and believe whatever comes next will be meant to be and healing.

I hope there’s a decent place to get a milk shake afterwards, because I’ll have fasted for 13 hours by the time I recover. Universe, cross your fingers for me.


2 thoughts on “There’s just no getting ready for death

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