Journal entry by David Matchett

Stephen is no more Stephen —
 
I went over about 3 after the chaplain said “it’s now.” It’s meaning the world to me that I got to be there. 
 
He was breathing when I went in, I called my parents to say I was there, I read him something my father had written him, then something from my cousin, and played him a message someone had recorded for him today, and then when I was returning the chaplain’s call we talked about how you could tell, and I said, well, it looks like his chest isn’t moving. So somewhere in there he stopped breathing, and I couldn’t say when. But there was no sigh, no gasp, no struggle — I can’t imagine a more peaceful way to leave.
 
This won't be the last post here, but it’s the last post from a day when Stephen was with us. Entering a new reality (all of us).
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