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January 24, 2006

Michele: Hanging on To Let Go

I live.

Barely.

My breathing is aided, my food shoved into veins.

It hurts just to exist.

I breathe because they come. Her smile, his laughter, their patience when I try to converse. I see the hope in their eyes, but it is clouded by reality. I hang on for them. My body wants to give up. This is not life. How many more days of this must I live to keep them from grief?

I wait for Sunday, when they’re all here. The smiles, the voices, the warm hands on my face.

“I love you all.”

I let go.

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