I’ve postponed doing this particular article all week.
My nephew’s battle with cancer ended Tuesday, May 18, 2021 at 5:52 PM.
My sister was in CCICU at the time. She has recently been moved to a regular room. To my knowledge, she doesn’t know her boy has passed.
It is hard to believe he is only 47 years old.
I am not fallen apart. I have not fallen apart so far. Cried? Yes. I’ve prayed for his soul’s repose. It is surreality firmly imposed on reality at this point for me. I do remember the good times, though. Things about when he was a young boy. Things he loved doing like playing the guitar. He could make it literally sing!
The next moment I think of my sister. What is going to happen when she finds out her son, her baby, has gone before her? Will she pass with grief? Will she have a heart attack and die then? Will she be able to handle it?
Her time is nearing, and despite it all, I just can’t genuinely come to grips with its existence. It is an un-real reality.