my best life 07.03.17.245A
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I picked it up and stuck it in <strong>my</strong> back pocket.<br />
Standing in line in the dining room, I waited for <strong>my</strong> tray.<br />
I was looking around for John. I hadn’t seen him for a<br />
couple of days and wanted to make sure we had a chance<br />
to say goodbye. I also was anxious to tell him what I had<br />
learned yesterday in hopes that it might inspire him in<br />
some way.<br />
“Thompson…” <strong>my</strong> name was called.<br />
I walked forward to collect <strong>my</strong> tray and asked the orderly,<br />
“Have you seen John?” He handed me <strong>my</strong> tray and<br />
looked at me with a silent stare and said nothing. Our<br />
eyes remained connected for a few seconds as I slowly<br />
turned and walked away with <strong>my</strong> breakfast.<br />
I think he knew, but either he couldn’t tell me OR he<br />
wouldn’t tell me. I sat down at the table and pulled<br />
another chair close to me hoping that John would walk in<br />
at any moment and sit with me.<br />
Other patients walked slowly by, some staring at me as if<br />
they had something to say, but never did.<br />
It was clear to everyone that I was going home.<br />
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