How is there joy
in caring for the dying
when there is no training
for the spontaneous turn of events
that occur daily?
It appears that the normal life
is on hold
and something substantial
is standing in the way
that requires constant attention
either by oneself
or by a support staff
that often needs
a certain amount
of input and response.
Eventually each moment
is subjected to a reframe.
It all becomes surreal.
Odd remembrances often surface.
Emotional links, long forgotten,
find contact and presence
as the river of feelings
spontaneously fills each effort
of care and concern.
A dialogue with no apparent words
continues in silence,
for the most part,
as separate coherencies
continue their journey
sharing common space
and circumstance in passing.
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