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  • I had given up the fight that evening. Way into the darkest of the night I had told whatever god there was, or wasn't that I was going to sleep. The everlasting pain didn't matter anymore, the fact I'd been told I had about three weeks to live was comical as I lay here ripped open, raw, waiting to heal- or not.
    'Up to you' I whispered. 'I've had enough of this fight'. I couldn't move because of the injury from the operation, couldn't breathe right because of the pain, couldn't focus because of the drugs. All I knew was the love of my husband and his gentle voice swimming in and out of my mind- easily and effortlessly- he kept saying to me- over and over every time he came.
    So here I am, trying to be easy and effortless.
    'I surrender. I'm going to sleep now, no more fighting.'
    The sound of the beating wings in my room woke me- drugged hallucinations? You can rationalize all you like- I know what I heard. The wings were beating, low,dense like a great bird flying through the room- I felt the breeze of her passing.
    I slept again wondering at the sound, waiting to die, or not.
    There was a feather on my pillow in the morning- in a bed of polyester and acrylic. There was another on the floor. And my body moved and my lungs breathed deep and my life came back to me.
    Fanciful though this is when my beloved came I swear he rustled as he moved and that the doctors and nurses shed feathers as they walked.
    Know this- in your darkest hour exhale and listen in the silence for the beating of the wings.
    This time I stayed, but when my time comes to go I will be carried easily and effortlessly on the wings of angels.
    Look for feathers as you go about your day. They are watching, my friend, they are watching.

    Sent from my iPad
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