Lady of the Final Breath, Who Straddles the Line between Flesh and Rot, Never Fully Alive Nor Dead, The Gatherer of the Straw Death, Daughter to Loki and Angrboda, I ask you to listen to my fervent prayer to you.
As he lay dying, I know his fate is in your hands. There is nothing anyone can do to make him choose life or death, nor would we want to. I accept that his life has been trying and he used inappropriate methods of escaping that hardship, which is unpleasing to You. If it’s one thing I’ve learned from You, is that Tools Have Purposes, and that using a tool for something other than its intended purpose is either genius or folly, but rarely anything in between.
I do not ask for clemency, as I know You would only laugh. I ask for gentleness and swiftness. Whatever he decides the best outcome to be, I ask you to bring it without delay, with as little suffering as possible. Should he choose to live, let it be joyous and bring about a new vision and vigor towards the flesh experience; if not, let his departure be painless and quiet, with only as much pain as necessary. Take him into Your arms and let him know he did his best, even in his mistakes, only his best.
I miss him. I hate to think I will never see him again, so it’s very hard for me to remain impartial. But it’s You who gives me my clinical detachment, You who taught me that rotting meat is rotting meat, whether animated or not, and that death is sacred, even when it’s hard to see the specific kind of death one is dealt as such. I admit, it is very hard for me to see this as sacred. Please, if there is a way to embrace it, show me the way.
I miss you so much, and am terrified. Please make your choice in your own time, but know that we are worried sick about you and hope that whatever happens, it is for the best. We will do our damndest for you, no matter what. If you can use my help in making your choice, I invite you to visit me in your liminal state, and I will do my best by you as always.
So Mote It Be
Image copyright Robin M Weare.