Last night I got in late, and found a message waiting for me. A guy whom I’ve gotten close to had called several times, he needed to talk, his father was in poor shape.

Last week was my spring break, most of it was spent with him. He has become part of my reality,and it surprises me how much I’ve come to care for him and his family. We ended up at a hospital…with his mother. His father was propped up, breathing with great difficulty and it was obvious then, it wouldn’t be long.

I immediately called him. He had been home all day waiting for the call. He really needed to talk, and we did until thelevel of my consciousness dropped beyond the point of conversation.

So much responsibility to deal with…in pain that washes reason away….life insurance policies, wills, and the beggings offuneral arrangements.

But I had to sleep…

Death woke me this morning…and I was half-awake.

Earlier than my alarm…in my groggy mind it turned over and over…no connections were made…just a sense of sadness, loss.

Then the phone rang twice. Like the rattle of a snake. An off-campus call. His voice was broken and almost gone.

“Dad passed away, not too long ago, I’m here at the home…called me at 2:30 a.m., said it wouldn’t be long, I’ve been here since then…down to 10 breaths a minute, then 8…just brought us breakfast and were about to turn him and I told them they better check if he was breathing, he wasn’t.”

“Haven’t told Mom yet, I want to be with her when I tell her.”

Death woke me this morning…and I feel strange.

I feel a shade of their loss, a shadow of their grief. Perhaps what I feel is an echo of the loss I felt when my grandfather died. I know how they are going to feel for the next few months and years. I pray for strength for the family.

There is nothing else I can do.


Originally published
on Olio.