lingering

After two days visiting with Martha and Barry at the ranch, I'm home and sleep eludes me. It's 3:09 and I lay awake, listening to Kim and Boomer's breathing; relaxed, heavy, rattled and uneven. When Kim's exhale stalls I nudge him gently and I think - at some point a nudge won't remind him to inhale. There will come a time when he will forget the importance of breathing. Something else will capture his attention. 

Illustrations © Barbara J Holzapfel

I remember the sound of Barry's breathing machine and the dusty light in his still room. I miss them and the people who love and care for them. While Barry and Martha's stories circle me, I find myself frustrated that I wasn't more vigilant in writing down the conversations. 

It takes a certain mindfulness to be present while still noticing what one might want to document. I have some of that awareness but, now that I understand that my personal diary of The Passing Diaries is of value, I must set up a system that allows me to stay present, and record at the same time. My presence must not intrude in this intimate process. 

I long to connect and yet yearn to be unobtrusive.