A short and beautiful interlude

I visited an elderly woman in the hospital the other day.  She was quite talkative and we chatted for some time.  She was in her mid-eighties and aware of her early stages of dementia.  The conversation was entirely intelligible and she was very quick with a good sense of humour.  But for a brief moment in the midst of that conversation she transitioned and I cannot remember exactly how it started but I will paraphrase from what I remember,

I have buried my parents once already.  But I see them at distance.  I can recognize them but they never come to me.  Mother, she never danced but now she dances.  Father, I don’t know, I think he is looking for his second wife.  . . . My husband, before he passed, told me that better times were coming.  I’m still waiting [looks at me and smiles].

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One comment on “A short and beautiful interlude

  1. Amazing, perhaps we are on the verge of a new spiritism? I don’t see dead people yet but I talk to dead people and not just those I’m authorized to speak to. Blessings to your friend. In some cultures she would be considered holy, here she may just be accounted as a burden to the entitlement system. Then again you’re in Canada and I like to believe y’all are just that much closer to God up there or maybe it’s just your proximity to the earth’s geo-magnetic field, which is really the only thing protecting us from being burnt to a crisp by the vengeant solar wind. All those millennium the peoples of the earth wasted misguidedly worshiping the Sun when the whole time it was indifferently trying to snuff us out and we really owed our obeisance to an invisible force of energy that preserves and sustains our planet…oh, for pete’s sake, I’v been looking for my glasses all morning and they were on top of my head the whole time, how silly. Blessings an obliged.

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