I never knew these verses until my patient shared them with me.

Mr. R. was my elderly African American patient who was dying of cancer. He and his wife held hands when I went to see them. I think they had been married for over 50 years.  He told me his dream was to one day take a trip on the QEII.

His wife always worried that their New York City housing project wasn’t a safe place for me to be, and would accompany me down on the elevator after my visits. But, I thought, you live here all the time.

Afterwards, Mrs. R. stayed in their apartment by herself for awhile, then went to live with her children in New Jersey.

It’s been 15 years, and I think of them all the time.

With great love.

I lift up my eyes to the hills-

Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

The Maker of heaven and earth.

Psalm 121: 1-2

Warmly,