I don't know him

The hospital.  Patients.  People.  Each unique in character molded by joys, tragedies, everyday life decisions and unavoidable events to bring them to this place.  Most leave with another mark that further delineates their distinctiveness, but not all.  Some disappear.  Evaporate.  Their bodies remain, but they are void, lifeless.  

 

That was him.  He was there in the hospital, but I never knew him...or maybe I got a phone call for sleeping aids or blood pressure in the middle of the night, but never saw his face...I do not know his name...  And now he is gone.  His wife.  Suddenly forever separated while she still breaths this air.  When was their last embrace?  Was there even a phone call to say "I love you"?  And as the story was told from another, I wonder at his last hours and days...  Isolation with strange creatures in masks and yellow gowns to care for him.  Did he get human touch?  Hear kind voices and words?  Were his needs met by these aliens?  And his wife...  Over 50 years of togetherness now shattered and gone forever.  No time to prepare for this outcome.  This dissolving him... her true love.  

 

And now...right now...how many more are their like him in the hospital?  How many are silently disintegrating with alarms that no one hears?  What can I do?  How can I love them well and encourage others to do the same?  This work.  This honor.  This gift to love people.  It's much more than a job, it's a task, a quest in these days of the unknown challenges.  One breath at a time, one step to keep moving forward.  Each encounter has a face, name, story.  Each one is precious.  I don't know him, but each day there are several I do know.  Several to love and serve and show kindness.