The other day I was sitting with my friend who is dying. I know it sounds dramatic, and that’s not intended. There’s just no nice way of putting it. So it’s best to be direct about something we all want to hide from. Except I’m faced with this reality, that I need to accompany her on her passage, even if it’s not that often. Every second is precious.
I was trying to tell her a story about… see I can’t even remember, and couldn’t find the word for (don’t judge me) bull fighter. I kept saying conquistador.
Her retort was brilliant.
Your mission, if you choose to accept it: Even if it’s hard losing your words with age, remember to celebrate the ones you have!
Be kind. Be safe. Be appropriate. Now go!
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