Everyone knows they’re going to die some day. Sometimes we acknowledge we’re going to have to face it eventually. That facing it is usually a ‘read a book and make plans’ sort of reality though. When the question is if it is in days or weeks, it is of a different kind.

Today went well at the doctors office and we all seem to be on the same page, acknowledging that he is dieing and we can only support him in that process. Pretending we were satisfying someone elses doubts is quickly water under the bridge.

Christy and I still can’t get him to bed. This will be the third night. She tells him she is worried about him falling but I think we all still wonder if a good nights sleep in a bed will help him. I got an office chair from the grandparents in the hopes that we could wheel him to his room.

A nasty dejavu strikes me. I don’t have a good feeling about the night. I’ve been feeling suddenly underprepared for his death, despite feeling quite prepared for and at terms with his situation. I don’t know I will get to.