Watching death is beyond words.
The body shutting down.
Grasping for breath.
Glazed over eyes.
Trying to focus on the good times, not the present.
Desperately not wanted to remember a dear friend this way.
The Gospel: what peace.
Skin and bones.
Praying, pleading, begging.
Not blood, but the only child he ever had, and yet pushed to the side.
Watching: for hours.
How long must he suffer.
The pain and sadness God felt as he watched his Son die.
Wondering what they hear, what they comprehend when you speak.
Getting a blink because he knows I am there.
This is my week, watching a wonderful man who help raise me die.