Michael died alone tonight.
I told the Hospice nurse it was his time.
 She shook her head and sent me home
only to call me to come
right back.
Too late.

 I thanked God for His mercy.
It was the last night the staff
would have dared to slip me in,
the last time I could
 hold his hand,
kiss his cheek,
even though I was too late
and he had faced that ultimate darkness
Alone.

A young black nurse,
who had always shown me kindness,
took my hand,
gently pulled me near the darkened bed.
                                                                       and began to pray:                                          
“Our Father who art in heaven…” And then more softly,
“…Even though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of Death,
I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me…”
 
No beautiful flower and people-packed service
complete with eulogy and fond memories
at Christ Church downtown.
No military honors at Barrancas National Cemetery.
No flag-folding, no gun salute, no Taps,
nothing at all.
As it turned out.