In this video are some remarkable and wrenching and beautiful moments, here Carol and Ed  begin to say goodbye, something both have been reluctant to do. Leaving such great love is almost unbearable.

Ed told me he wants our videos to be honest and authentic, I made that promise to him and I will keep it. There is nothing false about him or Carol. So I kept the camera running. They both saw the video afterwards and thanked me for taking it.

There is always a point with an illness like this where the people who love the dying give up on miracles and cures and magical thinking, and accept what is upon them. This is both heartbreaking and beautiful and uplifting and inspirational.

I think the moment came yesterday, we all knew where we are, so does Ed.

When I shot this video with Ed, I thought it might be our last talk together. His blood sugar has skyrocketed to more than 600, he could not sit up or talk much.

Quite spontaneously, he and I began saying our goodbyes.

Ed held my hand the whole time he talked. Then he began thanking the people in his life, and asked for Carol and  told her he didn’t thing he could hang on much longer. I knew what he was doing, he was asking for permission to go.

Carol said he should do what he needed to do, it was okay. She didn’t like it, she said, but it was all right. Ed has the permission he needs to leave when he is ready to go.

“Please don’t fret,” he pleaded. “I can’t promise that, she said, ” holding and kissing him.

In hospice there is a moment when the patient asks his loved ones for permission to leave, and the members of his or her family tell him or her that it is all right. That is often very hard for everyone, but very necessary for the dying.

People seem to need permission to go, and Carol gave it to Ed with a full and heavy heart. That is what love is, I thought, humbled by this courage and selflessness.

I wonder as they hugged and kissed one another so tearfully if I should turn the camera off, but I know that isn’t what they wanted, and it isn’t what i wanted.

The whole point of these videos is for Ed to share his process in the hope of helping others, and that is what these two brave and generous spirits did yesterday while I sat silently and just watched.

It is such a beautiful and intimate moment, it is difficult to watch it and not cry.

This video is sad to watch in parts, but also important to watch. It reminds us that death is sad, but also beautiful and profound and mystical. Ed and Carol have worked side by side and loved one another for nearly half a century, and here, they both approach their looming separation with grace and courage.

That is truly an inspiration.

We are taught to mourn and lament loss, we often forget to celebrate and give thanks for life. Ed has had a good life, the one he chose, the one he loved, he is surrounded by love and care. I have no reason to think this is his last day, I am not a seer, but as he said, “I can’t do this too much longer.”

And I hope he doesn’t have to do it too much longer.

Ed is not in great pain, I hope he is not ever in great pain. By evening, he was sitting up and we were joking. I’ll shortly see what today  brings. Thanks for watching and sharing. You can follow his and Carol’s writing and story on the Bejosh Farm Journal.

There is another farm saying I can’t remember, I’m going to try and get it out of Ed this afternoon.