Mapplethorpe's illness from "summary" of Just Kids by Patti Smith
Robert was not well. It wasn't just a passing cold or a simple case of the flu. No, his illness was something more insidious, more sinister. It took hold of him, body and soul, consuming him from within. And yet, despite his suffering, he never complained. He bore his pain with a quiet dignity, a stoic resolve that was both admirable and heartbreaking. I watched as he grew weaker, his once vibrant spirit dimming with each passing day. His body wasted away, his once bright eyes dulled by the weight of his affliction. It was hard to see someone so full of life reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. And yet, through it all, he remained steadfast in his determination to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward, no matter the cost. I did what I could to help him, to ease his suffering in whatever way I could. I sat by his side, holding his hand and offering whatever comfort I could muster. But in the end, there was little I could do to alleviate his pain. All I could do was bear witness to his struggle, to stand by him as he faced his own mortality head-on. In those final days, as he lay in his hospital bed, I could see the fear in his eyes. He knew that his time was running out, that soon he would be gone from this world forever. And yet, despite his fear, he never wavered. He faced death with a courage and a grace that I can only hope to emulate when my time comes. And so, as I sat by his side, watching as his breathing grew shallow and his body grew cold, I knew that I was witnessing something profound, something sacred. I was witnessing the final moments of a life lived to the fullest, a life cut short by a cruel and unforgiving illness. And in those moments, I knew that I would never forget him, that his memory would live on in my heart forever.
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