The NO NO NO moment

For the last several nights running, I've looked over, watched Craig, and thought to myself every expletive under the sun followed by "NOOOOO!". This can't be happening -- not to him, not yet.

99.9% of the time, I see Craig as he is. He's still my best older brother. He's still that guy who can generate a quirky statement, and pummel you with his wit whether on demand or not. He's that guy who digs deep just to participate and be present. He's my brother and I'm lucky to be able to call him that, to have known him all my life. I love him so much that the way he looks, talks, moves around is normal to me "so what?" moment, though shockingly different from who he was. That was the same with Mom. Only now do I really "see" how sick she was. We'd galavant around all the same and that is exactly the way it should be. Be loud. Be proud. People who are at the end of life should live life just the same!

The same is true with Craig, though his physical changes make it more readily apparant. In the shadows and rare angles of light is where the .1%  lies. It is in that small space where I acknowledge that my brother and best friend is also dying, this is also real. It's a difficult thing to try to describe. The best analogy I can think of is walking. You don't regularly pay attention to the motions and the thought processes that perfom a complicated series of muscle movements and coordination until a rock in the shoe or bothersome injury make it unavoidable. For awhile, Craig's process was like walking, paying more attention to the scenery and the detination than the effort. Now, it's a bit of the reverse. It's hard not to notice his eyebrows creeping lower to his eyes from his face thinning down. It's difficult to avoid the meaning when feeling his protruding shoulder girdle, spine, and sit bones. It's impossible not to respond to his aggravated coughs at night, or watch his chest rise more slowly than it has in the past. And, it's unavoidable to see his racing pulse literally knock his neck brace with each beat.