A dying sister is real

I asked my acupuncturist today if she could help me to stop questioning if my situation is real. A dying sister is real. Why do I have to keep asking myself this? I keep rolling it over and over in my mind. How could someone who is here and present, be fading so quickly?
My sister for 61 years.
I don't understand the suffering she has to endure. Does it have meaning? I hope her reward is great.
The other day she asked me, "Did you see that trash can?" I said, "How about changing from seeing trash cans to seeing something pretty? How about something like your beautiful paintings, the reds and golds and turquoise? Your beautiful flowers, some blue sky, big puffy white clouds. See any angels? Any castles?" I said castles because our mother saw a big castle not too long before she passed into a coma. I wanted my sister to see beauty the other day. At one point she covered her head and said, "too many flubers...or some such word. " I hated that she was frightened. I wanted to talk her into seeing something pretty. She did nod and say yes to her paintings and beautiful colors.

Grad Parties Everywhere, now on to Father's Day

Walking

We spent a week in Laguna and I came away from that vacation with an inspiration to walk. It's a great walking town. From the trail above the ocean that every so often leads to a stairway down to either the long sandy beach or the little coves spotted with rocks and cliffs, to the coast highway loaded with shops, galleries, jewelery stores and restaurants, visitors have a plethora of fabulous walking tours. Every day to step out and see the ocean and smell the sea air is a brand new invitation to walk, breathe, see, and check out all the different kinds of folks that stroll the town.
So I told myself and Hubby that I would do a lot more walking once we got home. Our town is a sprawling complex of blacktop and concrete before anything like nature or tony shops crop up to spark the imagination. But walking is good for the bones, muscles and brain, so off I went to the gym with a backpack, passing the empty used car lot, the corner Denny's and the world renowned Cal Worthington Ford.
After the gym and a slightly more forceful workout to stave off osteoporosis, I hoofed it to Pavilions for a few things, then to the dry cleaners. It was a far cry from the soothing sound of the ocean and a dazzling array of diamonds and gold, but I did hear a few bird calls and fantasized about Hubby surprising me by picking up this dramatic necklace with a pearl the size of a cranberry sitting on a solid gold ribbon set off by a bright little diamond on several strands of thin gold. Hmmm.
I slept really well last night, too. That's a nice side effect of taking a walk. There certainly aren't many walkers where I live. I passed 3 people walking. One man I could see coming from quite a ways away, and there was something shiny as he strolled closer to me. At first I thought it was someone on a bicycle, but I could see his legs, so that wasn't right. Then I realized it was a walking cane, and he was swinging it side to side on the sidewalk because he was blind. I wondered if I kept walking toward me he would sense I was there. I didn't want him to find me with his cane, though I thought that might be kind of interesting. The sidewalk was kind of narrow, and I thought I could go into the street or push into the bushes so he could pass me. I decided to stand aside in a clearing next to the sidewalk and wait and watch him go past me. That he did, swinging his cane side to side. He was probably 35 or 40, he had a pretty good build, his shoulders looked strong and square through his gray tee shirt. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. I wondered if he sensed me there next to the bushes adjacent to the sidewalk, but he just kept swinging his cane and walking forward. I stepped back on the sidewalk and walked on to finish my chores on foot.