I'm glad that I got to spend a few hours with our houseguest at hospice. I read, and prayed for him and rubbed lotion on his arm and face, and brushed his teeth, and got to talk to him (though he could not respond) and called the nurse when he suffered some pain. Then his son arrived from an extremely long drive and told me his brother had died a few days ago, and before that our houseguest's first wife had died. So the son has been knocked about a bit. I'm glad he made it because the next morning at five his dad died. Son and step-daughter in law have been here to go through the man's few things and take what they cared about. We are left with a few boxes of books to disperse.
I really liked coming home and opening the door and the first think I would see was his welcoming face where he sat in front of the big windows.
Guess I'll have to go find another 80 something to take in.