Hope there's someone who will take care of me...

A rubber ball hangs from the doorknob on my bathroom door. Whenever it gets moved, it bounces and flashes in bright colours, like a mini disco ball. Now it’s run out of spark and only beats a faint red when the door is moved. I look at it and think this little rubber ball is like my dear friend who has been moved to hospice, being made comfortable for his transition from this life. Once a bright, vivid flashing thing so full of energy and life and now a delicate murmur of light. Squeezing it, I envision holding his hand out there in San Diego telling him it’s OK, don’t be afraid of what’s next. That’s all I can do as I wait for THE phone call.
The phone rings early in the morning, is that the call? Is this it? No it’s that mysterious RESTRICTED number that keeps calling me. My head aches from the 3 Manhattans I had last night. Is it a hangover or guilt from drinking as Chris dies from alcohol poisoning? Who knows. Even the meows from the cats, hungry for their breakfast, seem shrill as if to say “Shame on you!” The pictures of us lay on the table, a lifetime of memories. So strange to think how all our destinies play out. Who got sober, who got married, who was supposed to die but lives, who was supposed to live but dies.
Antony and the Johnson’s song “Hope There’s Someone” is in my head so I pull it up on YouTube. It makes me think of Chris right now surrounded by people who love him, take care of him, make him safe at this lonely, scary time. I hope there’s this much love around me when my time comes. It’s OK Chris, there’s people waiting for you: Brian, Jennifer and a whole slew of relatives I’m sure.
Waiting is so stressful. But some things, like nature, can’t be rushed.