Until Death

He wants to give up but is worried. He feels he hasn't told his family everything. He worries about his wife, will she be okay? Will his sons take care of her? Will his daughter stay with her awhile? It's been 60 years together. He has so much to say but breathing is so hard. His wifes eyes fill with tears. "It's okay hon. It's okay. Rest now" He does rest, and he holds her hand and caresses it, the hand that he pledged his love to so many years ago. She kisses him and smoothes his hair. She pulls up his blanket that covers his emaciated frame, the frame that swung their children in the air, the frame that provided her the comfort of his embrace. And they sit there together, no words are needed after years of learning each others looks, body language and sighs. She is there when he passes to the other side, she closes his eyes, she folds his hands, she kisses him, sighs and goes to meet their children.