Nearness of Love

The world becomes so small in a dying person's room.  All concerns shrink to the immediate context.  The waiting turns to remembering out loud in mostly whispered tones, as if sitting in a childhood library.  I must confess that I have become secretly selfish in the interlude. As I witness the tangible compassion of family and the nearness of love in this room, I gain inexplicable comfort in anticipating the same at my own curtain call. There may be nothing nearer to the heart of God than this, to love and be loved in return.