I went to see, Dad at the hospital today. My brother, John and his wife, Kristin, were there along with Mom, of course.

During the visit, a eucharistic minister (a type of lay minister) from my parents’ church came by, offering the sacrament of communion. She offered a nice prayer and my mom, a long time chorister, spontaneously sang one of the parts of the mass. It was rather lovely. During the Lord’s Prayer, my dad, who has been understandably cranky, reached for Mom’s hand, and held it. This was more than lovely and made me cry. The 63-plus year life they have together enveloped in their enduring faith in the Church. An Atheist would have cried. My parents live in the loving places of faith.

On floor 7 of Valley Medical Center, I was in a place I had long feared being with my parents. But at that moment, there was not where else I would have wanted to spend my time on this beautiful, befuddling planet Earth.