I will be there when you die

(Already on Pistol)

I will be there when you die. In a hospital room, when your eyes are trying to open and can't find where my voice is coming from. When you breathing is still steady and we are waiting for it to become shallow and urgent, waiting with sad faces for the sound of struggle and then silence.
I will be there when you wake up in pain. When you are sleeping in bed, at home, in peace, and it is so strong you can't speak. When you know that the end should not, please God, will not hurt this bad. When silence, darkness, and eternal sleep seem nothing but warm and pleasant.
I will be there when you cry. When silence only makes it worse, when nothing makes it better, when nothing brings her back. When it is almost unbearable and you reckon after 54 years together, it'll take at least that long to make it stop hurting.
I will be there when you lay peacefully, when you've passed away, when you're dead. I'll look at myself in the mortuary bathroom and take note of all the features so much like your own.
I will be there, among everyone grieving, the one passing around tissues.
I will be there, in front of an open suitcase, antique chest, photo albums.
I will be there when it all changes, we all change.