Wednesday, 4 January 2012

Wednesday 4 January 2012

Another dictated post.  I continue to weaken.

My partner managed to talk me out of dictating a strongly-worded letter to the Bishop regarding the incident in the churchyard yesterday evening.

Alas, I have not the strength to write the entry alluded to last evening.  Perhaps my partner will share it after I... well, another time anyway.

I have been able to swallow some nourishing oxtail soup this evening - most delicious, but I fear the time for deriving nourishment from Earthly food is past.

The ongoing rattle, to which Edward the Rottweiler alluded in our recent conversation, has grown more pronounced.  It has a Latin name:  Mors Crepitant.

I saw Kipper again today.  He was accompanied by more of my friends from former times.  With a wagging tail, I recognised Rex from the rescue home.  Rats was there too.  A jolt of alarm dashed through me as I looked about me to see if I could spot my late wife, Isolde, and saw her standing a short way off - in the company of my other late wife, Ellie, and my former girlfriend Candy.
"Quick, Kip!  Hide me!" I yelped, "I'm toast if they see me!"
But Kipper just laughed.
"It's alright Jazz." he smiled, kindly. "It's alright.  Only love, forgiveness and peace are waiting for you here.  Don't be afraid - you have lived the worthy life of a good boy."  He smiled again and wagged his bushy caramel-coloured tail with its quirky white tip.  As I grew relaxed and tranquil once more, Kipper glanced behind him at some larger, shadowy and indistinct forms, which were moving in the background.  I could not identify individuals, but the shapes were unmistakeable.
"There are people in Heaven too?!" I gasped, incredulously, for I am not deceived as to why Kipper and my friends were coming to greet me.  I have been many things in my life, but a fool I never was.
Kipper nodded.
"One, perhaps, above others in love and greatness - but you have nothing to fear from any of them.  Trust me.  There is no pain here.  No despair."

"I trust you Kipper." I replied.  "No pain."

He nodded and smiled again as he and my other friends faded from view.

My partner is beside herself in her agonies - above all, she dreads having to make "the decision" and desperately hopes that nature may peacefully take its course.  In her desperation, however, she found this little poem on this wonderful resource which has given me a voice - the internet (edits and emphasis are my own):

If it should be that I grow frail and weak - and pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this last battle cannot be won.
You will be sad -  I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For this day, more than all the rest, your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
You would not want me to suffer so.
When my time comes, please, let me go.
Take me where my needs they'll tend,
Promise to stay with me until the end
Hold me firm and speak to me,
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree
This is a kindness you do for me.
Please don't grieve - it must be you
Who must decide this thing to do;

We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

        ~(Author unknown.  Annotated by Jasper Horatio Stafford)~


I will post again here shortly - whether it is to say that I am momentarily spared, or whether it is to take my leave of you.  But I beg you.  No tears.  No tears for me.  I am not afraid - and I am thankful.

Trust me - I am thankful, truly thankful.  And I welcome this new stage of my life, which will bring me the peace that passes all understanding.


I was born into anonymity, sold into misery and saved from untimely death.  Now I fall prey to cancer, that silent, abhorrent and unworthy killer.  But - for a brief, shining, moment in between these extremities I lived.

I really, truly, LIVED.  For all-too-short a time I was Jasper Horatio Stafford.  And what an honour that has been.

I hear the beginnings of a whisper... "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus et Sancti..."

No tears.

Good night.
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