Acceptance
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE When you were five, lightning struck a distant barn while you were climbing the old oak tree, and you fell hard into its roots. Your mother kissed your pale forehead as they wheeled you away down a hallway saturated with color and whispered: "It will be alright." But now you are alone, except for death in his ragged coat, in this white room that smells like pee, and you have no mother here. Tell yourself, as they take him away, say: "Yes, they found a mass; Yes, they think it's cancer; No, everything is going to be alright." --------------------------- I've finally reached the last stage of grief. 1. Denial. 2. Anger. 3. Bargaining. 4. Depression. 5. Acceptance. Many years ago, before we got married, Eric and I met with our bishop (ecclesiastical leader). He told us that marriage was a give-and-take experience. He said there would be periods of our lives when one of us would have to carry most of the weight, when the other was ill or ha...