"It's been a good twenty years."
The last words he ever said to me.
His words left me empty.
His words left me full.
"I came to say, 'Hello' and 'Good-bye.'"
The closing moments of today and the opening credits of forever.
I smiled at his words remembering the powerful anxieties that cancer had buried, anxieties once paralyzing now slain by the pressing reality of mortality.
It seems strange yet refreshing that death's approach buries the worries of living. The worries of each tomorrow fade when tomorrows become fewer.
The weight of every worry sank into the ocean of regret, and the ocean of regret trailed behind life's ship as the other shore grew closer.
Tomorrow's unrest disappeared and he found his rest.