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We had a cousin named Bolle. He got sick a few years ago. Week after week, fought his body against diseases in the proximity of death and we were many who agreed orosklumpar stomach and waited for clarification on how it was with him. I thought a lot about him in the months that he was hospitalized and a word returned again and again. Vitality. I had so that it was enough and was over. And we were many who loved him so we only had yielded little was of our own excess, it would have cumulatively become infinitely. He would certainly have had our surplus diamonds but we did not send anything. Not that we did not want to but because we realized that it would not work. You can not send vitality to anyone. It would have been easier if we had known that he would wake up from his coma if we built a deck for him. A conservatory with infrared heating and limestone tiles and a hammock in plaited bamboo, we could slap together in four days if it were. We were many who would have helped if it had done that he had received forces back. There was no street either. Not that we did not want to but because we realized that it would not work. One can not cobble viability either. When Bolle was so sick, I tried to mold me into a prayer for him, but it was surprisingly difficult. Praying that he would be able to come back to life, what did it mean? I distrusted God and existence in heaven? Or that I begrudged him to come to God and avoid diseases and pain? It felt dishonest and strange. I turned diamonds the argument around and asked for his wife and their two boys (the Great was perhaps three, the little one just a few weeks old). Praying for his family, I could do from the heart. He became increasingly ill. Me and my sister Mary sat with him on the last evening of his life. We had a long talk with him about life and death and those he leaves behind. It was hard to say goodbye. I took his hand and said, "Health!" Mary said, "Next time we meet, we have a lot to talk about." It felt comforting. That we will have a lot to talk about next time we meet. We will have much more to talk about than on the patio as we never built. ***************************** Had Bolle had lived he would have turned fifty today. Peace to his memory.
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