So Very Lucky

People know, when they enter Hospice, that their time is limited, and they react in a variety of ways. Most times, when I visit a couple, the spouse will be fluttering around, trying to be useful, or will withdraw from the room to be out of my way. The patient will want to talk about themselves and what they've done, and will often refuse to talk at all about anything significant. A lot of people put a lot of effort into acting as though absolutely nothing has changed. 

This couple was different. Although my visit was expected, I felt as though I were intruding on a sacred, private moment. Their faces were peaceful and calm, and they sat looking into each others eyes as if there wasn't a moment to waste. Even as we talked they could barely look away from one another, as if memorizing the features of their loved one's face. Only a few days later, after he died, I called the wife to express my condolences. I told her how precious I had found their appreciation of the other. I know, she said. I miss him so much but I can't stop thinking, I am so very lucky.