I lost someone dear to me last week and, as these things do, it has put me in a reflective mood. The number of people who flooded my uncle’s hospital room, to say last words, to support his wife and daughters, was phenomenal. The hospital staff moved him to a larger room and gave us the one next door as well to handle all the visitors and still they spilled out into the hall. He was in an unresponsive state for the last two days but the people kept coming, often bringing food and drinks for the family so that they would not have to leave his side.
These people all had busy lives I’m sure. Like the rest of us, they had jobs, houses that needed cleaning, meals that needed cooking, and kids that needing schlepping to this or that activity. They had not planned their week to include hours at the hospital, nor had I, but love for this man drew us there. The suddenness of it had taken us all by surprise. He was fine on Sunday. Went to church twice and out to eat in between. He had gone to the grocery store on Monday. On Wednesday he was in a coma and on Friday he passed away quietly, without drama or fanfare.






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