The Visitation

The son of a close friend of my wife's family died last week and she and I drove to their hometown to visit with them. They are in their 70s, their son just 53. He has had a difficult life, especially in recent years. He had bi-polar disease, and had been on dialysis for about four years. His father had been with him that afternoon, had left him lying on the couch with some things he might need. Something happened. He called 911. When his Dad returned to the house a short time later with his Mom, the place was filled with emergency vehicles. The door was locked; they couldn't get in. They tried to revive him and took him to the hospital, but he was gone at home.

It was just over three hours to Fairmont, and we got to the funeral home right at five o'clock. Richard and Mary arrived about 15 minutes later. They were happy to see Diane after all these years; they appreciated our taking the time to come. Diane was the only one in her family who could get there.

After saying our "hellos" and renewing old acquaintances Richard motioned for us to accompany them to the parlor. We were with them when they first saw their son in the casket. It was a moment I never want to repeat.

I've lost friends and acquaintenances, relatives, and I've lost my Mom and my Dad. All of those were difficult in their own way, especially my parents. I can't imagine how it feels looking on the lifeless body of your child.