Surrounded by friends, he sat on the end of the sofa, his bald head glowing yellow under the lampshade, his emaciated frame comfortably positioned on soft cushions, his expression gleaming the ultimate peace of resignation and faith in eternal life. At the age of 37, with his devoted wife and two young daughters by his side, he had endured the storms of denial, anger, bargaining and depression that confronted him during his eighteen month journey through diagnosis and treatment. He was nearing the end. All that had seemed so real, so imperative, was no longer so - his career, his family, his friends, his home, his country, his world, indeed, his own body and the identity it had assumed – none of it. Reality now was the conscious experience of the moment, free of interpretation, unburdened of the concerns of a little self shackled by a deluded world. He was beyond the world now. Friends and family who had been drawn to his side to support him were experiencing the gift of his presence, love without condition that only one who relates the pure spirit of the soul can impart. He sat as a saint, smiling his silent embrace, healing each of them to some degree or another at the most profound of levels. His body would soon depart, having fulfilled his soul’s divine task.