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Mar 2020
I'm sitting here feeling like I need to write something.
Something to convey the way I am feeling about this whole situation.
My big brother Dale.
Two months ago we were playing golf together.
Now I'm making your meals praying you will eat.
Bringing your pills to you with water to swallow them.
Thinking silently, this will take up more space in your stomach than what you ate for breakfast.
How can this be happening, a month or two more to live?
That is what we were told, cancer is fast and aggressive.
How can you process something like that.
I see you fading away a little more each day and wonder how you must feel whats going on in your head.
I can't imagine what kind of a place mentally you are in right now, and it hurts cause I know there is nothing I can do to make it better.
Just be here for you and comfort you as much as I can.
I took care of Dad as cancer took him and Mom died after being so brave.
But death is something I guess I will never get used to.
Does anyone?
All I can say is that I will miss you and I love you.
Your my big brother Dale and always will be.

                                   Your Fight Is Over
I told you Mom had your guitar and was waiting for you on the beach.
Told you she would wait for you there night and day.
I knew you were tired of fighting and you were ready to pass away.

I held your hand while you and I listened to Gordon Lightfoot all night long.
And in the early morning hours your breathing slowed, your face relaxed, and you took your last breathe listening to your favorite song.

R.I.P  Big brother 12/21/54 - 4/13/20
CANCER *****!
Aleta Marshall
Written by
Aleta Marshall  58/F/32757
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