False Promises to the Dying

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Modesty is plausibility. The lie’s appeal. Chicago unacceptably and unrealistically far-reaching. So Fresno in July. Central California. Farm country.

Minor league baseball. Young, muscular, hopeful young men trying to hit doubles into the outfield gaps. The reaching. The smell of fresh mowed grass. Earth and youth and hay fever.

Eager whisperers. The believing. The wanting.

Plans of motels and cheeseburgers. Car rides and photographs and a coffee table book.

But she is 90 pounds and fading. The neither of us admitting.

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Published by

Shannon

Sharing thoughts on writing, gardening, and baseball.

12 thoughts on “False Promises to the Dying”

  1. I wept when I read your post. My precious daughter, aged 38, died 83 days ago after battling a terrible disease and doctor error all her life.
    Hugs and strength in this terrible part of the journey

    1. I am so very sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your experience–for sharing your beloved daughter–with me.

      All my best to you, Shannon

  2. To look life in the face, always,
    to know it for what it is…..
    At last, to love it for what it is,
    And then to put it away.

    Cuts to the bone. I wish you strength for your last journey together.

    E.

  3. Hoping you both have warm days of peace and tranquility, joy and laughter, and more than enough shared love to last all the way home. So deeply sorry you have to go through this…

    1. Thank you, Kirsten. Grateful for your kind thoughts. Even in sad hard times there are moments of pure joy. I think the next thing I post needs more light.

  4. I am so sorry that you have to go through this. Your writing is beautifully painful and hurts my heart for you. You have more than enough already but strength to you both x

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