Going to writing group today, i walked down a long dark hall with a pot of white mums sitting near the end. Just seeing those flowers made me want to walk toward them.
My 93-year-old hospice client tells me she has been "in the tunnel" twice. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel coming closer and closer. She had no fear then, and she says she is not afraid of death now. In fact, she's sort of curious to see what's on the other side.
Her grumpy sister died a year ago and came to her in a dream. "It's not what you think," said her sister, smiling.