It’s so real I can almost touch it. Death hangs over me like cheese dripping off an over greased piece if pizza. Like alcohol off the breath of a bored and scared teenager.
Everywhere I look there are reminders of the beauty and love I will be leaving behind.
I am not doing well. Every day I can see deterioration. I have been here before but this time it’s for real. There is nowhere to run. I am out of ideas. Only death can leave this place unharmed. I am not as strong as death.
Hey Jerome. I hope there are moments in between the pain and the rage and the fear when you are doing seeing eating listening to smelling watching talking to breathing in the things you love. xxxxxx
My thoughts are with you. Must be really hard. If you ever want to get in touch I’m happy to chat. Please send my love to Amelia also.
I saw Ian Gawler on the weekend, had a quick chat with him, he won an award at satsang for achievements in interfaith.
Anyway sending my love and prayers,
Hi Jerome, I’m a friend of Cristi’s and have been reading your blog for a while. It is tricky when I don’t know you and when there’s not really anything I can say to help your situation, but I wanted to let you know I think it is pretty gutsy what you are doing – to be not just getting through day by day of this incredibly difficult process, but to be writing about it in such an honest way. Sending you love and light. xxxx Hannah