I recently encountered a dying man. There was little to do. It saddened me to see this kind gentleman, whom I have known for many years, wilting on the cart. The signs of neglect were clear. He was but a shadow of his former robust figure. He barely opened his sunken eyes when I grasped his frail hand. The end of my day was near, so I sat with him until he drifted into a carbon dioxide slumber and finally asystole. No family came to visit. Because of our previous relationship, I felt compelled to write a letter to his parents.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. ADMIT,
I regret to inform you of the death of your son DIRECT. I’m sure this is a shock to you because not long ago he was vibrant and full of energy and usefulness.