Gone.

Strong till the end...and I know because I was the last one to converse with him.  Moving my hands in a silent language, we talked.  Thankful for the long ago knowledge of ASL...if only I had more time to know this man.  He even smiled a bit through the pain, and the grin is the memory I want to hang onto of this gentle stranger.  Not the final glimpse or the moments before he took his last breath.  No family or friends as he just wanted to rest...and I guess now he can.  How is an ending so quiet, unremarkable yet causes a shaking rip that weakens the physical?  If only there was time to collapse and let the tears stream.  But someone is bleeding and another needs meds as his alcohol withdrawal is out of control and there's a potassium to fix and other needs that keep coming in.  The world keeps going except for this one too young to expire.  Only his last minutes will I know, but his value and worth I will not forget.  He signed his name...not the English one, but his real name.  The ASL one.  The one of his heart.  And his last conversation is now a gift I will carry deep inside.