Musings: Sitting Vigil

I visited the bedside of a dying man. Before that moment he was a stranger to me. I was welcomed into his home by a mutual friend. Together, we adjusted the man’s position in the hospital bed, sat in the middle of his living room. I sat too. I watched as my friend tended the man, bringing him a bag of fresh grapes, laundering sheets, speaking to us from the other room between phone calls with hospice nurses. My friend had to go. I sat. I noticed a collection of small elephant carvings to my left. I asked, which one was his favorite? “All of them,” he replied. From all over the world. The news of genocide in Palestine played softly in the background. On I sat. He finished his grapes, red and green. I asked, which ones he liked best? “Green,” he said. I cleaned up the grapes, I tended to the laundry, I sat. Soon it was time to go. I asked, if I could pay him another visit? “Hurry back,” he said.

Rest in Peace Bill