She is lying awake in the hospital bed, only able to communicate with her lips, eyes and hands.

The radiation has caused her to be unable to eat for months, only tiny bits daily. She has lost so much weight, although now arms and face are swollen due to fluid buildup.

But her eyes twinkle when she sees me. She mouths “I love you too” when I speak my love. She motions with her hand and we finally understand she wants her granddaughter’s boyfriend to play his guitar. He strums and sings Amarillo by Morning and she smiles.

I’ve waited all week for the family to allow me to visit. I hold back my tears until I drive home.

She has many close friends…others, like me have been waiting in the wings for permission to see her. We have prayed, sent our love from our heart hoping she could feel it, while we waited.

Yet, others we contact say they won’t come, they don’t want to see her like this. It would hurt too much. But I wonder at the support she might need. The love she needs to see in our eyes. Our loving touch. Our music.

Trying not to judge, but I do. It seems to be a selfish love they have: that takes the joy she gave them but declines the pain.

She is still here. She is still inside that starving body that struggles to live. Her beautiful caring, loving heart that comforted us in our traumas, listened to our fears, laughed joyfully at our silliness still there.

Do we only take from a loved one or share their pain, lend our strength when they need us most?

Dear God, please help me not to have selfish love.