Gift of life

Warning: Proceed at your own risk,I don't guarantee laughs on this one.

How do you tell a 18 year old and his hopeful parents that their only son has end stage illness and has only a few more months to live? It's something you know is inevitable and you also know it's something you just cannot change no matter how hard you try. It's something we are trained to do but yet no matter how many times you might have done it,it's as tough as it always has been and perhaps worse. You dread these moments which make you feel helpless and suddenly the white cape you proudly wear seems to weigh you down with its heaviness. He shows you those beautiful sunrises he masterfully captures in his canvas and the new jersey he fought tooth and nail for so he can wear it for his next playoff match. How do you tell him that probably that playoff won't happen? All I know is I'm expected to look into those anxious,hopeful and tearful pair of eyes tomorrow and give them those answers however painful they will be. For today he stops me in my tracks as I run around the hospital with no awareness of the world outside the white walls and asks me to watch that beautiful sunset through his small hospital window. It's beautiful he says and as I gaze for the first time in months through that window beyond the white walls, I am stunned by the way the silvery sunlight reflected on the lake surrounded by those myriad colors of the the festive trees in all their fall glory giving it all a wonderful picturesque feeling,serene,calm and somehow so comforting.
I feel suddenly thankful for that moment and as I leave he calmly thrusts one of his paintings into my hand and says "Something to remind you to keep looking at those windows". Thanks R, I think I always will.