SABATTUS – Autumn used to be a busy time of year for Bob Morin. As soon as he got home from the mill, his neighbors and friends would stop by to pick up a few of his fresh garden tomatoes.

Bob always had plenty to go around. In fact, he canned 400 to 500 jars with the extras at the end of every season.

But he rarely told people about his plentiful stash. He liked to make everyone feel special for getting a share.

“You should have seen how people used to fight for them,” he said.

Harvesting his garden was one of the many reasons why Bob looked forward to autumn. This year, however, the change in seasons has made him feel trapped.

He knows that as soon as the weather gets really cold, he may never leave his house in Sabattus again.

Bob, 75, is dying of heart and lung disease. He began receiving hospice care more than a year-and-a half ago after doctors estimated that his prognosis was six months or less.

Although Bob has already lived three times that long, he has been able to remain a patient of Androscoggin Home Care & Hospice because his health has shown no signs of improvement.

A year ago, he still cooked dinner for his wife, Jackie, every once in awhile. These days, he sleeps through most of the day, getting up to eat, bathe and take a dose of morphine.

Although no one has been able to tell him exactly how long he has to live and although some of Androscoggin Home Care & Hospice’s patients have survived up to two years, Bob knows that most don’t make it that long.

As time passes, he has noticed the bad days continue to outnumber the good ones.

“It’s coming fast,” he said, struggling to talk and breathe at the same time. “I don’t feel too good.”

A couple of weeks ago, Jackie Morin threw a party for all the hospice workers on Bob’s medical team. The couple wanted to say thank-you together before it was too late.

Bob managed to stay up until everyone left. But he could hardly move the following day. These days, even a quick drive to the grocery store with his wife comes with consequences.

“I used to try to be macho,” he said. “But no more. There is no sense in trying when you can’t.”

Jackie has tried to assure her husband that there will be days in the winter when it will be nice enough for him to get outside, even if it is just to sit on the porch and say the rosary.

But Bob doesn’t seem convinced. He can’t imagine breathing the cold air.

“I may look good on the outside,” he recently told his nurse, Karen Flynn, “but don’t look inside.”

This time of year can be good and bad for patients, Flynn said. Although many are relieved when the humidity goes away, they often feel confined by the cold weather.

Another patient, who walked to the corner of her rural road and back nearly every day this summer, recently told Flynn that she was tired of waiting. Six months after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, she is ready to die.

Morin’s days in the garden may be long gone, and his trips to the grocery store may be numbered. But he isn’t ready to go.

“Sometimes I feel good. Sometimes I feel bad,” he said. “But I don’t have that wish. Not me. Not yet.”