He was polite, called me "mam," said "please" and "thank you." He was a religious man; read the bible in bed, blessed the hands of those who took care of him and prayed often. I was worried about his mental status at one point, "W, who are you talking to?" "God, mam." We find comfort in the fact that he was so religious, I believe he is happy and safe now, he is with his God who he loves so much and who loves him. I just don't understand why God had to take him at 43.
Fine one minute, not the next. Puts everything into perspective doesn't it? There is nothing to say that it couldn't have been anyone of us in that bed instead of him. We don't know what God's plan is for us. I am positive that he didn't think he would die 3 days after his admission to the hospital, but he did. I am thankful to have peace of mind knowing that we did everything we could for him, that it was out of our hands. Life is precious. I am learning more and more to be thankful for every minute of every day, to enjoy it. My job has taught me to appreciate the simple things and realize what really matters at the end of the day. I invite all of you to do the same because we never know when it could all be taken away.