room off the front lobby, which also houses a giant indoor birdcage filled
with finches that flit and tweet and generally bring the outdoors indoors.
When I peeked into Harold’s room, I saw Daniel and Gloria, along with
three or four family members, including a couple I knew to be Harold’s
other daughters.
Daniel stood. “Hey, Pastor Todd,” he said as I folded his handshake into
a hug. Gloria stood, and I hugged her too. The family greeted Colton, who
hung onto my hand as he dispensed quiet hellos.
I turned to Harold’s bed and saw that he was lying very still, drawing in
deep breaths, spaced at wide intervals. I had seen men and women at this
phase of the end of life many times. When they reach their last moments,
they slip in and out of consciousness and even while awake, in and out of
lucidity.
I turned to Gloria. “How’s your dad doing?” I asked.
“He’s hanging on, but I don’t think he has much longer,” she said. Her
face was brave, but I could see her chin quiver a little as she spoke. Just
then, Harold began to moan softly and twist under the thin sheet that
covered him. One of Gloria’s sisters stood up and walked over to the bed,
whispered comforting words, then returned to her seat by the window.
I walked over and stood at Harold’s head, Colton trailing me like a tiny
shadow. Thin and balding, Harold was lying on his back, his eyes barely
open, lips slightly parted. He breathed in through his mouth and seemed to
hold it in, as though squeezing every last oxygen molecule from it before
exhaling again. I looked down and saw Colton peering up at Harold, a look
of utter calm and assurance on his face. I laid my hand on the old minister’s
shoulder, closed my eyes, and prayed aloud, reminding God of Harold’s
long and faithful service, asking that the angels would make his journey
quick and smooth, and that God would receive his servant with great joy.
When I finished the prayer, I turned to rejoin the family. Colton started back
across the room with me, but then he spun on his heel and returned to
Harold’s bedside.
As we watched, Colton reached up and grabbed Harold’s hand. It was
an E. F. Hutton moment. Everyone watched intently, listening. Colton
peered earnestly up into Harold’s face and said, “It’s going to be okay. The
first person you’re going to see is Jesus.”