I loved Pat so much - loved - death transforms you from an is to a was. That always seemed so strange to me. She’s gone, but my feelings for her are still present. I had this heart warming conversation with her while I was in Portugal. We chatted for over an hour. She said she could hear in my voice how happy I was, she was so proud of me, she said I was like a bird free of its cage, she told me, “live your own life, do what you have to do". Damn, I love/loved her so much. So I question why I don’t feel sadder right now. Maybe because I already mourned when she could no longer stand up and they had to lift her skinny body up off the chair with a machine, so small and fragile. This woman who was the matriarch of my family, who had favourite shops and restaurants, loved cats, strong willed, young souled, fun and independent. Now she couldn’t stand and needed help eating, I wanted to tell the nurses, “Don’t you understand, this is Pat Piddington!". That felt harder than death, after that death came as a relief. The people who loved her stepped forward to be with her while she started dying (if you can pinpoint when dying starts). I realised that the time spent being present with people you love is all you really have, at the end of the day. Where you’ve been, what you’ve done, what you own, comes to nothing. So, tell them that you love them, that you’re sorry, that they helped you, but most importantly, be present with them, properly present, because we don’t have much time left, probably less than you think. No need to be sorry for my loss, be happy for what I had. https://www.instagram.com/p/BxBSzsSnvUy/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1m8q662ey7s9w
