I was
checking my FB Page this evening, when I got a text at 5:33 P.M. from Lori: “Greg
is passing. I’m on my way to St. John’s. I hope I make it on time.”
I
texted back: “I’ll be praying for you.”
I
posted on FB about the situation; and asked for prayer. Most of my FB Friends
would know who Greg was.
Then, I
thought … he shouldn’t be alone: no one should ever die alone. I was
closer to the hospital than his sister was, so I shut the laptop down, kicked
my slippers off, and slid my feet into my hiking boots; grabbed my coat and
purse – and jumped in the car. I texted Lori on my way: “I’ll meet
you there; green coat, green pants.”
All the
way to the hospital, flashback memories of Greg played through my thoughts and
prayers:
{{Greg had just graduated High School when I first met him – we didn’t
date, but we did “have a moment”. Greg was a good-looking man. Greg was a
good-hearted man with a killer smile, an infectious laugh, and a fun-loving
attitude. He was a troubled man later in life due to bad life decisions, but he
always treated his friends good: I wanted to be there or him – he was always
there for me. Greg immediately became a Friend on FB when he learned Bob
had passed: he helped me tremendously during those first 2 years of widowhood –
we often texted every day, and through most nights: nothing ‘fresh’ … and he
remembered Bob – he would have been a Freshman, when Bob was a Senior. I learned
things about Bob that I never knew. I was thankful Greg had known Bob, and was that
he was my friend in present times.}}
I got
to the hospital and parked. I walked through the sliding doors and said I was
there to see Greg Wika … a mask was thrust at me and I was pointed toward the
elevator that would take me to ICU. I didn’t need directions. I had spent all
of the Fall and Winter months of 2018 in the ICU Ward of the local hospital.
When the elevator cruised to its stop at Floor 3, and the doors whispered open,
I pressed the intercom button and was asked by an attending floor walker who I
was there to see – I told her and she went to check; coming back to tell me
that “a family member is with him”. That was good news! Lori had made it 😊 I informed the floor walker that I’d be in the waiting room when
Lori came out.
I called two intercessor prayer warriors and asked them to pray for Greg – that he would (if he hadn’t yet) make peace with his Maker before his spirit left this Earth.
Then I waited.
The
wait was a short one. I had barely settled into my chair when Lori came into
the room to notify me that Greg had passed. We hugged. I asked her if she was
alright; she said “yes”. We sat down from each other. And I listened for
45 minutes as she talked about her memories of her older brother; I shared my
memories of Greg, with her. She remembered Bob – she said, “he was a
handsome man, and he had the most beautiful eyelashes”. And I smiled, and
said, “Yes, he was handsome, and he did have beautiful eyelashes; they were
long and the envy of every girl who didn’t have them – including me.” We
laughed thinking about Bob’s eyelashes. The laughter helped take the edge off
her grief shakiness. She said, “I’m sorry; you must have something better to
do than sit here.” I said, “I’m retired. Greg was a friend – I can stay
with you as long as you need someone to be with you.” I stayed until her
husband came to get her.
Lori
said Greg passed peacefully, and that he’s in Heaven: I’m pretty sure that’s
true, because I felt peaceful about his passing, too. Lori also showed me the
scar on her chest between her breasts, and said she recently a few mild strokes
– which led to open-heart-surgery (6 months ago!): a triple bypass;
heart issues are hereditary in the Wika family. Lori is only 2 years older than
me.
Greg
was 70 years old when he took his last breath: he’d has a series of heart
attackshis heart just quit working.
RIP
dear friend.
Terry Jacks – ‘Seasons In The Sun’ song: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tPcc1ftj8E)
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