I looked at him as my adrenalin rose up. I spoke, "Oh no, that is not how this goes. We came to fight. You are going to fight from where you are, and I am going to fight on my knees over there. I will not leave you." He cried and turned away. I walked away.

*****

They took me in with him. I was his voice because he no longer had one. It felt so cold, strange, and eerily quiet in there. I had to sign his papers there in that place. I felt I was signing him off. Gut-wrenching--that is what that is.

*****

Before I could answer, he said, "Is he your brother, and is he homeless?"

I smiled and said, "He's my friend, like a brother. He's homeless, and I do this because I love him."

To that he said, "This is some kind of love."

*****

When life is on the line, each breath of life becomes very real. Options run out, and grasping for control is futile because when our time is up, it's up. We spend most of our lives wrestling with this reality.

Life doesn't always play out the way we plan for it, and we really do a lot of planning, don't we?

When that ugly thing shows up and takes our breath away, we are faced with a reality that is mind-bending and heart-wrenching. What are we to do? We get to choose. What will we do? Can we know before that unthinkable thing happens? It haunts us because it's daunting to the core.

When dying is a real possibility, what should one expect? What does one hope for? What does one think about? I was about to find out.

It's wasn't like in the movies. It was quiet. Time stood still, and our eyes did a lot of the talking. I recall saying, "I am not exactly sure what the doctor means, but I think I know." My hubby just shook his head yes as we looked at each other through FaceTime on our phones.

I was getting tired. I couldn't feel my legs, but they were there because I had to touch them to believe it. My husband and my baby girls flashed through my mind. Our lives, our laughter, and our long talks and walks.

This true story is a portrait of human frailty and the reality of this life filled with disruptions and interruptions beyond our control. It's daunting and filled with authentic fear replaced by unspeakable peace in the journey. It is filled with humor in the hard and trauma that shows up uninvited. It's a beautiful walk in the depths of agony and struggle colliding with an overcoming peace that paralyzes one's ability to reason.

It's a journey, an adventure; it's chaotic and calm. It's worth sharing with a world that hands out the hard stuff. May you find this power-packed peace in the midst of the real hard stuff too.