Arrival/Departure

9am. Meeting the son. Just in from Seattle. First time back home   in five years. He's a John, too,   just like Dad. Red-eyed from his 3000-mile redeye,   I think. Unable,   or unwilling, to sit down. Alone, trying to digest it all, his head spins.   Jet-deprived and   sleep-lagged, he flip-flops the lirst fetters of his words. A little sore (from the flight) and very mistaken, he's   crushed to learn what lies ahead: “We don't wean the sedation. We won't be waking your dad up. You can say ‘goodbye’, John,   but he can't.”