TODAY

There are things in life that you hope you never have to do. Some of them are so horrible and revolting that the thought of doing them haunts you when you do. My little dog Happy, reaching the end of her life was put to sleep. When they injected her with the needle, the look of fear and the shaking of her body broke me forever: I will never own another dog.

Then there is the loss of a child, the most devastation thing to happen to any parent, a dark place I have been to before. That haunts you everyday of your life, as the joy for life seeps out slowly. The last looks at the hospital, the little songs I sung to him as he slept fitfully in my arms, intravenous tube attached to his little body, the only thing holding me together the hope that somehow he would survive.

And now I have found a new low in my life, being the guardian of an individual with developmental disabilities, one who is dying and suffers oh too much. I signed off on a DNR form, and so we will wean him off all his medications and watch and wait for the inevitable.

He is on my mind as never before, knowing I was the one that opened the door for this action, while closing the door on his life. I know that he will be better off, rather than suffering a short life anyway. But will God judge me and ask the hard question: “WHO ARE YOU TO DO MY JOB?”

GOD forgive me.