I just spent some time in a hospice visiting a friend. She’s just like you or me, except she’s dying, and she knows it. So there are a few things I want to share with you while we’ve got a bit of time.
As comfy as my friend looks in her clever bed with its remote control, no one in a hospice actually wants to be there. Given the choice she’d much rather be out here, with us. Deciding what to get for tea, chatting about nothing in particular, finding a special thing in a second-hand store and realising it is perfect.
You and I don’t even notice the little moments as they pass by. Maybe even resent time wasted.
But it turns out these little moments are the things of life that keep us splendidly sane. Untethered from the mundane realities of each day, we somehow become lost. The people in the hospice seem all at sea without them, waiting to be rescued by a boat that will never come.