Being with Phil

Courage takes many forms. I see it every day as I sit with my brother Phil and watch as he courageously and silently battles with this cruel disease.

Phil spends most of his time lying on an outdoor bed on Mum's front porch. It's quite pleasant there - lots of greenery, a bird bath, fresh air. There's also a recliner, a camping chair and a small table on wheels that doubles as a bedside table for him. Phil is never alone - there's always someone to sit with him, to chat, to listen or to just be. So one or both of the chairs are usually occupied as well.

Little things mean a lot. A day when pills are taken on time and pain is kept at bay is a good day. A day when food is kept down is an even better day. A day when he has appetite and asks for something that he likes has Mum smiling.

His world is now between two rooms. Sometimes he gets up and goes to lie on the bed set up in the lounge room - it's softer :-) But mainly he stays on the porch - he doesn't like being inside. We now take our meals al fresco so as to be with him, although he does tell us to eat inside at the table. But I for one like eating with him - especially if he's enjoying his food, little as it may be.

We are both comfortable in each other's company. I'm happy to sit and not talk - I'll have a book to read or my knitting. But more often than not he's on for a chat and we'll talk about anything and everything. Sometimes it's deep and meaningful, other times it's trivial.

His son Matthew comes after lunch and I'll leave them to enjoy a game of backgammon. Matt also sits with him into the night as this is his worst time.

One day flows into the next but not all days are the same. Each day I look forward to being with him and sharing time with him - be it quiet time, or time rubbing frankincense oil or deep heat on his legs to help relieve some pain, or time talking about things that I'd rather not be talking about.

Every day I see courage as I sit with Phil. He doesn't complain, instead he worries that he's being demanding - he's not. Every day as I watch my brother in pain my heart breaks for him. I want to hug him but I can't because it would hurt him. So I hug him with my eyes, my words and a soft kiss on his forehead.

Life - please be gentle with Phil.