death's angel

Today I watch the man they call the Angel of Death as he walked family back and forth to our tiny viewing room. No doors or windows in this room, it used to be a storage closet I think, so only two or three (if their skinny or close) can fit in at a time.

Today they came to see a young man who,had he lived to the end of this month, would have been Thirty. I thought how coincidental it was that my birthday is this month to.

He had lots of family, all crying. So the Angel walked back and forth for hours. They always go past my little corner, so I watch as they go in -crying, but determined. One mutter quietly to no one as she past, "maybe if we put the oxygen back on he'll come back". Then twenty min. or so later they file past again. Still crying, but now they just look hopeless.
The first stage of grief- denial is shattered here.

I think to myself of Dr. Brown telling the class that we don't deserve to live, that life is a gift of God. We don't deserve to be healthy, have eyesight, walk, speak, be happy. These are gifts from God. It's not something to tell the mourning, but something for the living to think on.
What if. It is a great question. What if this, What if that. It could have been me, you think. It could have been my friend.

"I called him everyday" said one girl as she walked out. What is she thinking? I bet it's not about how many min, she'll save. But rather, what will she do with those min, now.

The Angel of Death walks the floor most nights here, sometime we manage to ward him off, sometimes we transfer the pt before that inevitable event and he walks on another floor. But he has job security that's for sure. A living reminder of dying. What does he think of this nick-name I wonder? Does he go home and ponder the brevity of life? He does not seem the brooding type.

I will end my meandering thoughts now, and walk into the autumn night, the cool breeze fills me with a sense of life all around. I will thank God for his great gifts to me, so undeserving, and ask him, if it is not contradictory to his plan, to bless yet awhile longer.