They say all good things must end. And so it seems to be.

I had a dream a few weeks ago. It gave me a great sense of peace.

The feelings from the dream were strong, but they’re fading.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what it was like for Richard in those last moments.

How long did it take? I have no idea how long he could have held on when those seizures took him over. Was it just minutes or hours?

Did he have pain? I know the other two times he went into seizure he bit his tongue enough to give him bloody foam around his mouth. Biting your tongue hurts. What other pains could he have suffered in all the struggle?

He was on the floor in the middle of the room. Did he fall? Or did he dose off there while playing video games or watching TV?

And the worst thought – did he know what was happening? Did he feel fear? Did he know he was helpless and dying? Did he feel his life slipping away?

I can only hope the seizures that trapped him in an unresponsive body also kept his brain from knowing what was happening to him.

And the roller coaster ride continues.