A sorrow shared

My poor 80-year-old father, painfully lonely after the death of my mother not two full weeks ago, is sound asleep in my recliner. This dear soul lost his soul mate just weeks short of their 50th anniversary.

Yesterday he called me at work and left a message: "Please call me before 4 p.m." There was such sadness in his voice. He said he was really having a hard time...could he come over sometime? So tonight he came over for dinner and some TLC.

When he first came in, he slumped onto the couch and hardly moved for quite some time. Then he finally started talking...about Mom. Her last days. How he loved to visit her and help her with her meals. How he would say, "I love you" when leaving after a visit at the nursing home, and how she'd say, "I love you, too." He just needed to talk about her. I did, too.

Dad is still sound asleep, pulling the afghan up closer to his face, resting peacefully and not alone for at least one night.