Mutuality
I met Meredith at Laguna Honda Hospital. She lived her life on the streets of San Francisco, and now she was dying. Fellow volunteer Melissa and I sat with her during what would be her last hours. For me, these journeys at the bedside are pilgrimages to a sacred place.
I reached to stroke the back of her frail hand and it curled into mine. The silence was deafening. Melissa's gaze was tender to Meredith and reassuring to me. Suddenly I spoke, "Meredith, you're safe now. You're safe". Not my words, but the words of our mutuality. Our eyes met, and for a brief time the three of us were together on a journey. I was lifted up. Just maybe Meredith was too.
The next morning I returned to visit her and learned that Meredith had died. But not on the streets, and not alone.
