Michael Kimball

“I watched you wake up and try to wake me up too. I could still feel you touch my face and my cheek. I liked the way you brushed my hair back with your hand. I liked the way held onto my hands with your hands. They must have felt a little cold and a little wet but they started to feel warm again when you held onto them. I want you to know that I stayed there with you and held onto you too.”

“I didn't want to wake up either. We both held onto each other. We looked at each other before we closed our eyes and let go of her.”

“At night we turned all the lights in every room of our house on. We turned the lights on the front porch on. We turned the lights on the back porch and over the garage on too. We wanted to keep the darkness that surrounded our house and us as far away from us as we could.”

“My grandfather was hurt but none of us could get inside of him not the doctor not pictures not his sister or daughter or any of his grandchildren to make it stop.”

“We could only pay attention to one dying person at a time.”

“I couldn't get myself to bend down or pick up any dirt to throw it on her casket. I couldn't help to cover her up unless it was with a blanket and only her face were still showing.”

“We unplugged all the clocks and anything that had a clock on it. We used our extra time awake to slow the rest of our time down. We cooked and ate and sat and talked and waited and moved and walked and we did it all slowed down. there wasn't anything else that we wanted to do but be awake and alive with each other.”