My 89-year-old patient is dying in the hospital of kidney failure, heart failure, lung failure, but not of brain failure.
He asked for an emergency family meeting and with a room full of people around him.
He said: “Let go of me, physically, but keep me in your hearts.
Forget I died but remember I lived.
If I made you laugh, if you ate a good meal with me, if you enjoyed my voice when I sang to you, if I gave you a piece of advice that was useful- think of those moments forever and fondly.
Then, look up and smile, and know that I will too.
My dear grandchild- in a few weeks you have a wedding. I will be there with you.
Don't cancel it.
Life is too precious to waste it crying.
What I want from you, is what I wish for my dear wife, that after I am gone, you live fully, love deeply, be joyous.
So, throw your party, dance with my feet, sing with my voice, laugh with my breath and hug each other in a way that I can feel the warmth between you.
That way, I will know that my life and my words were worth something.”
