So. She was desperate. She wanted to get up.
"Let me up."
"I don't know how, sweetheart. Your body is so broken. I don't know how."
"Let me up."
Morphine. Lorazepam.
"Let me up."
"I would, sweetheart. I don't know how."
"Let me up."
Morphine. Lorazepam. Benadryl.
"Let me up."
2. I asked her to let it go. Let her broken body go, fly away.
"Let me up."
"Sweetheart, I don't know how. Leave your body. Let your spirit get up without it. Fly, fly from here."
"Let me up."
"Speak to them on the other side. Ask them to let you up."
"You let me up."
"I don't...
3. ...know how."
Morphine. Lorazepam.
"Let me up."
Caress her face. Talk about what a success she is, how she has walked this whole road, reached this pinnacle...
"Let me up."
I turned her on her side. Knees toward me.
She moved her legs. Edge of the bed.
"Let me up."
4. "Rhonda. Move the chair in. Get ready."
"She can't stand, Jeff!"
"I can hold her weight."
Pull her knees to me. Swing her feet towards the ground, raise her to sitting."
"Let me up."
"Put your arms around my neck."
Arms float in space... Pull gently, wrap them around.
5. Get my arms around her. Move us together, in unison, stand, turn -
"Oh! Oohhh!"
"Sit. Relax. Back. Sit."
Giant long windy fart. Belch, belch belch.
Belching got hard to almost impossible days ago.
Sit her down.
Water runs, long stream, ends, drip, drip.
6. "Put your arms around my neck, Sweetheart."
Rhonda arranges the pads and covers.
"Now, Honey."
"Oohhh! Oh! No! No!"
"Rhonda, catch her head!"
Seated on the bed.
I raise her legs up, Rhonda cradles her head, I lift her into place.
Asleep.
• • •
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We did visitation the old way.
Her body died at 2:15 AM. I texted Rhonda immediately, and in about ten minutes she was here.
After a while she went back home. At about 6:00 AM I did two blast messages, one to people from my phone, one from hers.
2. We told officialdom that we'd be keeping her for a few hours, and I invited those who were able, and wished, to come see her.
The country folk all came, the commercial farm family and the others, some from the Humane Society, some from the band, some here and there.
3. Everyone who came had stories of things Gloria had done for them, for their friends, for some animal - Gloria did for others. As a matter of course. That's what you do.
You don't ask for back. You do it because you can.
Gloria.
Some huge percentage of Twitter is people having nasty squabbles, putting one another down, shitty little pissing contests...
People, it's bad for you. Having all that anger energy flow through you is bad for the health.
Ignore unwanted behavior, reward desired behavior. Training
Sharing Karen videos is bad for you. It's bad for the health.
Don't let poison into your mind, and however much slips in, don't entertain it. Don't spread it around.
Don't share climate articles about how fucked up things are. Anybody who ain't figured that out yet isn't worth talking to.
Share articles about slowing down. Share articles about urban farms and donkey power. Think about what *to* do rather than focusing all the time on what
My daughter and her husband were out today.
I never knew I had a daughter. All the parts were here for much of my life, but in her final act Gloria spun us all together in a web of magic and I have a daughter.
2. Long time readers know that I have, besides Gloria's farm where I live, another forty acres up by Rayville, about five or six miles away.
I have offered it for free to an intentional community.
We're building it.
Here.
There.
Now.
3. They're all around 30, plus or minus maybe five, I don't know for sure. The house goes to Hannah, all the rest are peripheral to that one fact.
Gloria's experiences with men weren't all positive. This is *her* farm. I stay here by her permission.
This house is going to Hannah.
Before the death watch became, I was a semi-obscure Twitter climate extremist with about 15k readers, what Twitter calls "followers".
If you haven't, I invite you to read my pinned tweet thread and the two attached, related threads.
The short version is, I'm the ultimate Luddite.
2. I wasn't always. I made my entire livelihood all my working years on cutting edge communication technology, with a small bit of medical technology thrown in.
The knife is sharp. The body of reality gives. The cutting edge slices a deeper and deeper cut. Earth is screaming.
3. As recently as four years ago I was writing essays on renewable energy conversion actions which I recommended - which were, even then, wildly out of the mainstream.
I'm too lazy to go find a link. The old essays are still out there I think.
But then I started thinking serious.
This morning she was fretful. Mostly awake, upset, uncomfortable.
My experience with hospice has not been a positive one. A hospice nurse came here and tipped over our carefully constructed apple cart, and the specific instructions I had given *another* hospice nurse *last night*
2. Had been lost in their system and I had to give them again.
Her brow was all furrowed, her eyebrows squinched together, anger in the set of her jaw - I know this face. I pay attention to it.
I stroked her brow, caressed away the squinch, softened her jawline.
3. I told her that she is perfect, that she has done absolutely everything she had to do, and done it well, and I'm so grateful to her for all of it.
I told her I will never be out of reach of her, she's not going anywhere, I'm not going anywhere, but to relax.