This weekend I had the priviledge of sharing the last few hours of someone's life. He was a sweet, kind older man, and in the space of three days I grew to be very fond of him.
I realized again (because I already knew it without really thinking about it) that there is family, and there are relatives, and the two don't always overlap.
I also came to the conclusion that if you have even one person who cares about you when you go, then that is enough. There doesn't have to be a crowd for there to be love.
And I learned that sometimes the smallest simple gesture is enough to touch someone's heart and make them feel loved and comforted.
It was three days that felt like a week or a month, but I am glad I got the chance to be there.
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