Farewell, Friend

A telephone call in the night. I headed to the nursing home, about 20 miles distant. My friend's condition had changed, and he was on his way home. I was grateful for their call, because I promised him I would be back in the morning. I just didn't realize how early in the morning that would turn out to be.

So I sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and occasionally stroking his forehead, letting him know I was there, God was there, and it was all right. He was resting peacefully. Somewhere around 6:30 this morning, he quietly passed on.

Witnessing his good and gentle death reminded me of the poem "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson:

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual Light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.

Pace e bene,
David+