Watching 11

More watching over Thanksgiving weekend—in person this time, not long distance. Miscellaneous reflections:

On asking for forgiveness: Romans 3:23. We're all assholes.

Our tragedy is the hospice nurses' job. What is for us a massive disruption, a giant rip in the fabric of our lives, is for them one stop in their daily routine.

I hate the metaphor of "fighting." Terminal illness isn't a war to be won; it's a natural process taking its course. Why should she be made to feel that she needs to be "a fighter"? That she needs to "be brave"?

You stay up watching because it makes you feel like you're doing something when you know in fact there's nothing you can do.

Watching makes me a witness—the connection is right there, in the visual metaphor. But to whom am I witnessing? And what for?