My uncle, the smartest one of that generation of our family, traveled to nearly every state park in the western U.S. He would park his car by the ranger station, say he would be back in two weeks, and go into the forests with his back pack.
His world gradually focused down to a nursing home bed. After weeks of immobility, within seconds of his death, he sat up, eyes closed, with a smile on his face. I said at his wake that on the other side of that point his existence was widening out again, that he was hiking celestial trails. I hope so, and who’s to say for sure not?
My uncle, the smartest one of that generation of our family, traveled to nearly every state park in the western U.S. He would park his car by the ranger station, say he would be back in two weeks, and go into the forests with his back pack.
His world gradually focused down to a nursing home bed. After weeks of immobility, within seconds of his death, he sat up, eyes closed, with a smile on his face. I said at his wake that on the other side of that point his existence was widening out again, that he was hiking celestial trails. I hope so, and who’s to say for sure not?