The Graceful Farmer

There is no reason to think this man was a farmer, although he has very broad hands that have obviously seen much work in their time. He is elderly and at the end of his days. He is succumbing to a cancer not to olde age although in less than 5 years he would make his hundredth year. He lays abed comfortably, clean and shaved and catheterised for the sake of convenience and consciousness.

His longtime wife, although a fair number of years younger, is looking tired and old today. She wants a peaceful death for him and it seems likely to occur in the next 48 hours. He is in and out of the death-beckoning slumbers and when his eyes open the pupils are more dilated than not. He takes in his surroundings, looks for his wife and then relaxes. It is a good death process. No pain and just the way and manner he chose.

The telephone is ringing constantly.
No sooner do they hang up than another call comes in.
The word is clearly out. The Farmer is ready to reap that final bounty.

His wife holds the telephone and smiles gently into the room.
"Honey, it's Dick and Jane from Winnipeg calling."

He is completely out of it.
She walks to his side and speaks firmly.
"Honey, Dick and Jane to say hello to you."

She tells the caller that he likely cannot answer back but he certainly can hear and understand them. She puts the phone to his ear.

A moment later I hear his voice.
"Why Dick, Jane, thank you for calling. I am not so bad."

There is a pause, and then he says it again:
"Not so bad at all."

Then he closes his eyes and goes back to the slumbering.

Isn't that just so gracious?
The farmer used some of his last breath to elegantly assure friends he is going to be fine in any world.

Bless you Sir.
What a class act.

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