Gone are the days when I put you to bed with kisses and breathless pleasures…
Now I bring you your medicines, arrange the pillows to cause you less pain, and hold your hand as you sleep—praying you survive the night.
I have never loved you as much as I love you tonight.
John Whittemore
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Physician and Writer. You may know me from Twitter @John_Whittemore
My novel “The Making Of The World” is represented by Talcott-Notch Literary Agency.
The sweat of summertime feels welcome when I remember how few summers a lifetime receives
Why we pour out our lives for each other
When I was young I was eager to fight for love. Now I simply surrender
You will remember it like a beautiful, difficult dream…
I found you again for a moment.
May your turbulent soul find peace…
We love most deeply and are more grateful for life, when we remember that we will die someday
Winter is to remind us that everything eventually dies.
Spring is to remind us that we shall all be resurrected.
The most difficult things are often exactly what our souls need, even though we shrink from them.
When we bought chicks for this year, my wife noticed a chick that was too weak to stand. She chose to buy that chick specifically, and spent the whole day holding it and feeding it with a dropper.
It died snuggles against her.
I’m reminded of how much I love her.


The imperial boomerang from Gaza is coming back already.
Our leaders are corrupt and now average citizens are “terrorists” they abuse at will.
Dark times for our nation…
We said goodbye to you tonight
Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God.
He, to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood.
I was born in darkness but I leave in light
Hope drives away despair, just like light erases darkness
I can’t bear to lose you again
I wish I could rewrite your story. You put the gun in your mouth but instead it misfired. You called me back and said you were sorry. You lived to be old. You were beautiful and good.
If I could write that it feels like I could keep you alive, but I'm not good enough a writer.
I miss you so much already
May all of your suffering be a prelude to joy…