I always was reluctant to visit the sick or the dying and probably superstitious about saying goodbye.
There's a really good line from a Dylan song that says it's too good a word and so the persona bids fare well.
The other day I started visiting a friend. She is at a home for the aged.
I have trouble understanding what she struggles to speak from a mouth that is no longer able to chew. I stand or sit and I hold her hand. Some days one is weaker than the other, but whichsoever is her strong hand is the one she uses to press mine with a grip that says I am still here and I need something to hold on to.
It's especially so when I try to slide my own away for a minute or for the exit.
I wanted to learn Hebrew and Russian, but fortune has given me a chance to learn a language that needs no translation.