Dear Death,

Yesterday, the hospital called, the doctor was somber, and we knew when he rolled into, 'please call me, David', that you were coming.

Today, Hospice called, and said you'd be showing up soon, that ambulance transport to Hospice house is in the works. I said, 'okay, and we'll be down to sign in place of those that cannot'.

I've got to say, it's somewhat strange to be in a place you frequent so much, Sir! I mean, the dying house is nice, with food ready to eat, or rot away, any, and all distractions at the whim of family members who can, or cannot stomach what's happening. It's quite the place!

Don't worry, I answered the directives correct, and signed to seal another's fate. The nurse said the person is hanging on by shear will alone. She also needed to know whether to keep upping the meds even with possible consequences...... Well, Mr. Death, that's an odd thing to have to dictate for those who cannot decide for themselves. I answered as humanely as I could, yet somehow I felt as though a little of the burden of your job, was placed onto me; do I get paid for that? hmmm.

Paperwork signed, and off to the room, was I going to pay my respects, or view the macabre; I knew the answer, but, I usually ask the more disturbing questions to myself. I must admit to you Death, all I could do is sit in the room for a while; thinking back to this person I knew when they were vibrant, and now frail. Someone that could do anything they set their mind to, yet now on a host of drugs, and sleeping; perhaps until you come.

I did tell them as I held their hand, 'it's okay to let it go, just let it go, find peace'.

I guess it's time to call the funeral home, and get the casket I built out of storage.

If I may make one request of you Death,

May you make the journey calm, and help them find peace.