I want to thank readers who have sent loving responses to support me on this journey.  I know that you are courageous and willing to read the blog, allowing and accepting the vulnerable feelings that arise. I believe practicing vulnerability is not weakness, but instead our greatest strength (listen to Brene Brown).

I proceed forward with the same vulnerability that is at the core of all humans, and with grace, a sense of gratitude, surrender and faith. My faith feels solid because it includes all creation, I respect that we are intimately connected like cells of the same body, that birth and death are sacraments to be experienced with awe and respect.

Realizing that this is indeed the final chapter, closer and closer to the end of known life, I feel a wobble in my core.  It is a bit frightening to witness death coming, like footsteps outside my door, the growing pain, new pressure on my throat, declining vision, daily changes allow no question. I sit in this house alone, but not lonely. The silence is sacred and settling. I cannot distract myself from the ineffable, instead I meditate and read. I stabilize my mind and ponder how to open the door and greet what is next. My concerns: How to greet decline and death with calm and peaceful abiding? How to help those near me to do the same? What will a transition from conscious life be like? My wish is to have a soft landing in the infinite, accepting the many possibilities of what that could mean.

What helps me accept this transition is my growing compassion and connection with others, even those I do not know, and the certainty that the ego “me” is a construction, a temporary vehicle. My image, my belongings, my opinion, my money mean little. What matters, all that matters, is the open heart moments I have shared with others, and decisions and choices made from this place…this is my legacy.  I have stepped away from the selfish self-protecting ego enough to make a difference, no human is perfect but I feel content that I have loved enough.  Letting go of a world of emotion and connection is difficult, it’s all we know. Now I invite friends and family to discover with me , from a tender and resolved heart, how we say "goodbye".

Brene Brown - The Courage to be Vulnerable
http://www.onbeing.org/program/brene-brown-on-vulnerability/4928
You can find this audio program on onbeing.org

Test results came in today showing progression in my cancer. What does this mean? Likely that my remaining months can be counted on one hand. My guess is three months. Sudden unexpected shifts are also likely.  Let's hope for Spring blossoms and June sun.

What to say. I have cried my tears, and my kids and "team" have gathered around me. We are all sad, but well. We knew this day was coming, we've discussed it many times, and all agree that we were blessed with one full year. 

Facing Death. It sounds and feels ominous. My instinct is to pull in, to settle my spirit, and complete the many small projects that I want to leave behind. My energy for social events is diminished by  dwindling energy (fevers, sweats and pain are back) and precious little time. I guess I am warning you that I will be less social, less available, less likely to respond to email. This doesn't mean you can't reach out or that I don't care, there is just less...less time...precious less of me. As I progress I may need friends to spend the night / day with me, but once my condition becomes mostly medical (pain, shortness of breath) I will move to Residential Hospice .  My wish as I move forward toward transition is sacred silent support, please no noisy meet and greets. Remember that I had a year to connect, once I am bed bound I will ask my team to hold sacred space to support a peaceful passing.

What can you do? Smile and hug your children, lovers and friends. Life is so precious. Don't get angry, controlling or distant, its not worth it. If your heart isn't open are you really alive? Please don't feel sorry for me, we all have to die, I have had an incredible life of heart felt adventure and growth, make sure you do too!

I will continue to blog. I will bring you closer to what I think and feel as I prepare to move into the infinite. When I become infirm my kids will blog updates and my obituary. You are invited to my memorial at First Universalist Church 3400 Dupont Av. S. - date hopefully late summer :-}.