I’ve worked on a lot of writing today but I don’t have it ready to share yet. The editing process takes a long time when I am working on a longer essay. I had randomly included this image in a presentation today and it seems to have called to me as I attempt to make my posting deadline for today.
I made this image as an experiment in painting with light. I used a small LED flashlight in my studio that was totally dark. My original concept was about knowledge and life and the limited amount of time we have to accumulate it. As I look at it today I see it as a reference to being middle aged with life half gone already.
When I think about my father now receiving hospice care I think of the watch and the unknown hour of when he will pass.
I spent several hours meeting with nurses and social workers and caregivers yesterday at my father’s house. The social worker gave me a copy of a booklet about the dying process. Even though my father was upright and sitting in his wheel chair, it is clear to me that he is well on his way. He isn’t using many words and touch is the language that means the most to him right now.
The process of dying is a process of withdrawing from the physical world and preparing to depart the body. There can be a struggle to remain present in the physical world that creates moments of clarity and energy but ultimately the tide is pulling out and the spirit is on a journey to the unknown afterlife.
The information in the hospice booklet was really helpful. It enables me to see that this process has been under way for several months and we are heading towards the final moments that could come in days, weeks, or even months… but it is happening. The clock is ticking and we do not know when but we do know what is coming to pass.
I continue to photograph my father each time I see him. There is something so beautiful about the process he is undergoing. There are moments that unexpected sadness seeps through my conscious thoughts of gratitude but for the most part I am in awe of the whole process and the people who have come together to make it as comfortable as possible.
I wish I had more to say today but I don’t. I am just sitting by the fire and thankful for it’s warmth.
Peace,
Ira
