Starburst and Skittles

“It’ll be a nasty trick I played on you” said the Little Prince at the end of the book before he leaves to return to his own small planet.

I feel this way about some of the residents at the hospice, especially the ones that have been there awhile. It is a nasty trick they’ve played on me, unwittingly allowing me to get close, to be tamed, and then leaving.

I read from The Little Prince last week to a resident who has begun his slow descent. I used to tease and joke with him and now I wait, holding my breath, waiting for that phone call saying "he is no more."

It is a hard thing to watch. Every time I walked into his room and saw him lying in his bed that engulfed his small too skinny body, all that he has endured, all that he has not lived, ached in me.

Young, (too young to be dying so harshly) alone, and scared, it’s the unasked question that hovers in his eyes that makes me wince. “Is this it?” Wanting to know if this is the end, but too sick to ask….Or maybe too scared of the answer.

All I could do was sit on his bed and gently caress his face, neck, arm, and then hold his hand, returning his squeeze of my hand by holding on tighter.

It is a nasty trick…..