Sometimes in the busyness of the day
I forget for a few minutes
and don’t feel the ache,
but when I first wake up
from the dream of sleep
to the nightmare of real life,
it is there
—the axe in my chest—
the cleaving pain
of remembering
my beloved father is dying
and all I can do is sing to him,
mother him,
tenderly stroke his head,
pray and cry,
and hold his sweet hands
still warm.
Just East Of Crazy Land 
We feel for you while you are going through this very precious sharing , during this time of transition towards the light.
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Thank you for these sweet words. ✨
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I always remember how my Dad held on to my hand with strength even though he couldn’t speak anymore near the end , due to a stroke and brain tumour.
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Special memories ❤️
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Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry to hear this! I’m glad you can be with him during this time but it’s never easy to lose a loved one. 😦 Hugs and prayers!
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Thank you, Bonnie! 💕
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