And when he told me he needed no one,

His life was his art, his passion, his life,

It kept him going,

It kept his dreams alive – it was enough.

Then I answered.

Who will make you an English breakfast to go with your coffee?

Who will listen to your stories when you come home,

With flushed cheeks?

Who will you share the warm moments of your day,

And listen with adoration and attention?

Who will bring you a whisky and lemon when you are sick?

Who will tuck you in,

With a kiss on the forehead,

And give a worried look as consolation?

Who will hold your hand,

As you breathe your last,

Knowing you were loved and wanted,

And did not have to die alone?

As many of us will in the end.

The choice is yours; our paths can be the same.

In the end,

All that matters is love.

                              Madelyn June Jorgensen