The tears rolled down little Ilil’s face—any day his daddy would die. Nine-year-old Ilil and his 7 year-old sister would soon be orphans. Their mom had died when they were quite young, and now their dad was on his death bed. I thought of my dad. When I arrived back from my trip to the states, the wound from my Nana’s death was fresh on my heart, and here we had a “hospice” patient who we were doing our best to keep comfortable during his last days.
I had been eagerly anticipating returning to my little village, Emrang, but was hit with disappointment when I found out that I could not go back there for an undetermined amount of time. All of the nurses in Kementiyan were returning to the states, and that would leave Allie & me as the only medical personnel in the mountains. The clinic in Kementiyan was the greatest priority, so our four students and small clinic in Emrang had to be left alone until the arrival of more nurses.
So here we were, caring for this gentleman who knew he would soon die; he had given his heart to God and was ready to go. It wasn’t long before he breathed his last breath and distant relatives took his two children to live with them.
No one is guaranteed tomorrow. Every day we must be ready. Are you?
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