soft to the touch.

I had my first very close encounter with a dead body when I was working as a nursing assistant in a local hospital. As we readied the body for the family, I was struck by how this body defied all of my expectations of how dead bodies were supposed to behave. The skin was soft, warm, and supple. Blood continued to rush, and then eventually merely weep, from injection sites, the coagulation cascade still diligently at work. More than anything, I was fascinated by my surprise. In the context of Western medicine, death has been so pervasively medicalized that many, if not most, people will die in hospitals or medical care facilities. Death is not warm or comfortable; we describe it as cold and impersonal, and this characterization reflects our innate fear of death itself. This view of death began to decay as we bathed a body that was so recently alive. I wondered if we could one day be rid of the wartime metaphors of fighting and victory and defeat. Metaphors and analogies work to protect us with distance, but an increased proximity could restore the quiet intimacy which I have found to be beneficial in beginning the grieving process.To view the original version of this poem, see the supplemental material section of this article online.