How words can make sense

It enters so utterly unimaginable. How you can cry tears of gratitude. Because you recognise things in words someone else has written down. In this case, it's Paul van Vliet's writing. My sister-in-law shared the lyrics with me. I hadn't seen it yet. But when I read it, the tears came. Very thick drops down the cheeks. Not so much of sadness. But mostly of gratitude. Because some people are able to put into words what is about how death is a part of every human being. Whether you are 'famous' or not. The last wish is often about one thing. And that is love. Receiving love and giving love. My husband had the exact same wish. I remember writing down on my notes for the GP who would come by, the last few days before he died:


"Alwin does NOT want to go to hospital".


He did not have much strength left, but these words came out with such force that I could not and did not want to ignore them. Because I felt exactly that way. Not heading to the hospital. I'll do it myself, together with him. With the only skill I have. I don't have to be a doctor for that, or a nurse. I don't need a training course for that, where I theoretically learn how I should care for someone. No. I have the only skill needed for this. A skill that every human being has. And that is the skill of giving and receiving LOVE. Because then, you can do that, which Paul van Vliet wrote down so unimaginably beautiful and aptly in the lyrics "Last wish".


I am not afraid
Of dying
I'm only afraid
Of the way
Yes well it's not time yet
And if you don't want to
Talk about that
That I'd rather stop
Then I'll stop talking about it right away.
But still, you never know
Of course it's nonsense
But you think 'if'
And 'how' and 'what'
And it's also why...
No everything still works fine
And still functions
As it should but still...
Yes look, I'm so afraid
That when the time comes
That then people
Are going to decide about me
My body and my life
And my death
Because they feel that I myself
Can no longer do that
And...that they then....
So that's why I'm telling
I'd rather tell you now
Just in case
If I then...
I wanted to ask you if
You...if you can
Make sure
That I'm not in one of those hospitals
But in our home
And in my own bed
The way I want
The last vestige of self-respect
That you should leave a human being
Is still, that he gets to say for himself
How he wants him to leave.
You know my body better
Than such a doctor or such a
Nurse with a thermometer
And how I'm doing
You don't need to read
From such a device
You don't need to measure
My heart rate
You will after all these years
Know better
How it is with that...
You have the beating
Of my blood
Felt in you..., haven't you?
You know my breath and my fears and my sweat
Surely you know every spot of my skin
And if anyone knows
What I feel underneath
Isn't it you...?
So, when the time comes
Leave me at home
That you don't visit
But be there
Just like always
My own bed, my own home
Familiar, trusted
Yes, God
I'm just whining
And it's not time yet
But well
Then you know
For later
My last wish:
My own house
My own bed
And your intensive care.

© Copyright - Paul van Vliet