All she could do was sit by his bedside and hold his hand, the doctors said it wouldn’t be long. Her gentle friend defied the odds and waited, he waited to give loved ones a chance to be there, he waited… A few squandered the opportunity to say goodbye while others gathered around to let him know they cared.
She spent days and nights at his hospital bedside and never let him wake to be alone. He knew that he could always rely on her friendship, he could see her generous soul and he took comfort in that. He held her hand and through pain filled lips he let her know what her friendship meant to him, he spoke of the joy she brought him.
And it was while his hand was in hers that he gave a smile and drew his last breath. Once again this woman was his friend as she made sure that his final wishes were followed. She shouldered the responsibility because he knew he could count on her.
It was just a shovelful of dirt she dropped onto his coffin, the final act of what she could do for him, something he could never repay. Then she went home to begin her mourning taking with her sweet memories of a very special friendship and knowing that life goes on even through the tears.
A man’s first death is inevitable —
the second, being forgotten, should never come to be.
I know that she will never let that happen.