Pass

One of my old clients passed away. He died of complications from lung cancer. He was a wonderful man. He was gentle and kind. He was tortured by auditory hallucinations and persistent delusions. He was so ill, but I adored him.

This afternoon, I attended his funeral. There were only about thirty people there. A brief service was held before the burial. The setting was peaceful. His coffin was sleek. It was perfect for him.

As I looked around the chapel, I noticed several people crying. They seemed saddened by the man's departure from this world. I wondered about the content of their tears. Why? Why now? I bitterly scanned the faces in the crowd. I recognized one--that of the man's father. The father showed up a couple of Christmases ago. I have not seen him since. I wondered to myself: "What are they upset about? What gives them the right? Where the hell have they been? Why is it that they did not know he was ill until I researched and finally tracked them down to tell them he was dying? Why did they not know that on their own? Why is it that they did not stay in touch? Why are they crying?"

Perhaps their tears were of sadness. Perhaps they experienced loss. Perhaps they felt guilt for not being present in his life--for being selfish and choosing not to deal with his illness. Perhaps I am just bitter.

I wish that this man would have had more in his life. He deserved it. I wish that he could have experienced more joy. I wish that he would have experienced more love. I wish that he could have experienced a better quality of life.

For him, I wished more...

He deserved better.