We went to visit Tony.
The minute we turned into the hospice grounds, I was transported in time. Back to the days, and the years, where I was present with patients and their families for their end-times. Everything felt and looked the same. I was home.
The quiet joy of greeting Tony, and then talking with him about the times when our lives crossed paths, was filled with warmth and remembering.
The previous blog was written as I flew to Houston. On the drive down to the medical center I read it aloud to Beth. Then I clicked on Publish. As we sat with Tony, along with his sister and brother, Beth told him about the blog I had written as I journeyed to this time to be with him. She then read it aloud; the room grew silent as she read. The blog ended with a prayer from the Service of Compline and when she prayed the prayer, we all said Amen.
I did this hard thing, and just as I imagined, it was filled with grace, with gentle joy, with reunion. It was also filled with blessings and parting.
The walls of Houston Hospice are hung with period quits. To me they represent tapestries of lives. Tony and I have threads in each other’s lives, and today we tied them off.