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In my book, those who work with the dying are unsung angels and saints. They are witness to all that is holy in the ending of life just as nurses and midwives are the guardian angels of birth.

One of my dearest friends has devoted her life to the dying for the past fifteen years. Again and again, she has offered comfort, caring and compassion in each moment to every patient she meets. I am in awe of the service she has extended, selflessly. There are countless others who do the same every day, year in and year out. I bow deeply to one and all.

I pray that I am graced with the assistance of a nurse or hospice worker whose life has also been guided by kindness and faith. I would be infinitely grateful if my circumstances were such that I might find myself in need of such help. I am unafraid of depending on the kindness of strangers. After all, despite superficial differences in skin color and cultural history, we are family in the end.

the time it takes
to say thank you
last breath