Last night

I got the honor yesterday of being with someone when they died. Not like, Im in the next room with the family, or down the hall, or in the office and then was paged. Quite literally with them, standing next to their bed. I didnt even have my head turned at the time. It was rather surreal in a very bland way. They spit up just a touch of saliva (nothing obscene, or even of any real note, just a bubble or two that was easily wiped away by the nurse) and that was it. No violent reactions, cries, coughs, sputterings. Just another moment in time that came and went. The eerieness I suppose is that death - this supposed monumentous event - came and went with little notice.

It certainly reminds me of my WiT commentary made a month ago. Death is but a comma. A mere passing. It is not some abrupt and outlandish semicolon. But rather it was just an ordinary stroke of the pen. A simple comma seperating one state from another.