to buffalo, this train goes

[image: maproomsystems]

I saw Ali in the afternoon a day after I got the phone call. I was shocked. I cried. I was so used to seeing her animated and full of expression. I didn't recognize her at first but once I saw her blue eyes - now blind, I knew. I spent half an hour alone with her talking as I always did. Reading her one last poem. She cannot move, can barely blink and her speech is just a tiny breath. But the faintest squeeze of the hand, it was everything she needed to convey. A pastor came in and I watched as he said recited prayers. I hugged her daughter and said goodbye. I joined Ethel at the dinner table for a little bit. Her mind is still sharp but her body is failing and admits that she's in pain. I took her down for a smoke as usual and we talked. To Gautam, she says hello. Ali's daughter came down and gave me a small dutch shoe and hugged me again before I left.

I think I need some hospice training.