A Doctor Died

A doctor died today

I am far from the small white office where he welcomed both me and my husband for decades.

Yet I feel as if I am still sitting in the small room on that never forgotten summer morning when he held my hand and told me I would be losing my beloved.

I knew he felt my pain. The physician and the patient had become friends during the time they had spent in each other’s company.

The had much in common; both the same age, both had married the same year. Both men were proud of their families.

Yet their choices in life quite different which perhaps caused their friendship to grow rather than diminish.

One had chosen law enforcement; the other committed to saving lives in a totally different manner. Perhaps their decisions weren’t really so different.

Theirs was a private friendship not one for golf dates or quiet drinks. Rather it was a sharing between two men whose lives crossed unexpectedly.

After I had said my final goodbye, his friend asked me, “Are you keeping the house?”

He had visited often in a professional manner during my husband’s last days.

When I replied affirmatively, he nodded and said, “Good, it’s a wonderful house.”

Those where the identical words my husband used when he asked me that question shortly before he died.

Goodnight, Dr. Sal.

You served your time on earth well.