This is a dictation-driven post from
Dan's bedside today. Part II, so to speak.
I thought the end meant that you just slipped away, the way
Zeke did at the end of Parenthood. But that’s not the way it works. I feel like
I’m zooming through a thin valley and it’s such a speed I won’t crash into the
ground or fly above the edges of the valley. Each time, I see a sort of wall at
the end of that valley that I’m going to crash into. But I get to the wall, and
there’s an outlet, so I keep zooming along. I’m surprised, I didn’t think I
could keep doing that.
The Home Health Nurse was here this week and described my
faculties, “His language is good, awareness is good. He could go on for weeks.”
I compare it to my friend Joe, who we visited right before he died. There was
nothing there, we did not register at all. Two days later – he passed. The
mind/language thing is like a railing. So, I’m going along the railing,
interestingly, it’s red. I’m going along
that red railing until it breaks – and there I’ll be.
I wonder what that will be like?
(Dictated to Dan's younger son, Simon,
on Wednesday, April 12th, 2017 at 6:30pm)
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4 comments:
Hi Dan, Not that it's a surprise, but you're even making the journey of dying interesting! Ever the excellent teacher. I was thinking last night of our astronomy sessions at Phalen Park - so much fun. I am entranced by the colors you're feeling and seeing. Some for pain and now the red railing. Why are some red, some green, some blue? Will you, or we, ever know? Inquiring minds......
I lit a big candle for you at church today and asked for gentleness for you and that you always feel surrounded by the strong love and support of so many of us. You have been an inspiration in so many ways.
I hope tomorrow will be a better day for you. Sending big hugs to you, Mary, and all the family.
Sue
Hi Dan and Family,
I posted on Dan's Facebook page yesterday my appreciation for his Wilson Creek photo. I described journey as beautiful. I also know it is hard, gritty and painful. What I do see as beautiful is your candor as well as the love and gratitude you are able to share. Thinking of you all. Julie
Dan (Mary, Simon, and family members),
This blogging and sharing does so much for people, both those who are in earshot, but also for us who are farther away. The moments my thoughts turn to Wisconsin and Menomonie are more frequent than I have fingers or toes. Dr. Riordan, you are still the mentor and teacher, and there is no surprise in that. There is also the simple down-to-earth person you have always been intertwined with the elegant pedagogy that made you such an outstanding colleague, but even more importantly, an invaluable friend.
I wish you comfort and a wish for peacefulness instead of some of what it seems you are experiencing.
With love,
Michael
Dan, you wondered "I wonder what that will be like?" The speeding will stop, and you will float. I saw something recently that talked about the "afterlife." Quite fascinating and spoken by an ex-priest -- he mused that the afterlife may very well be how we are remembered and what we leave behind (heaven?). Not having an afterlife are those who do not leave a positive mark, who may be evil, hateful, etc. (Hell?) You, my friend Dan, will have a never-ending and illustrious afterlife!
Sali M.
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