The Wisdom of Harry

A true story from my life experiences. Part of my ongoing personal history.

I looked into those eyes, so gentle, so caring, and repeated my question.

“How do you get through this?”

Harry said, ever so calmly, “You just do. You just do.”

Those were not reassuring words. Harry and I were in the hospital cafeteria, trying to eat. Eating isn’t easy when you spend your days sitting in the Intensive Care Unit beside the bed of your mate, waiting for death to come, praying that it doesn’t.

Harry’s wife was in the room next to ours. That’s how we met. He was old enough to be my father. His first wife had died of breast cancer. Now his second wife was on a ventilator, with fate uncertain. He had been through this before. I was hoping his experience would have brought some wisdom, some secret of how to dull the pain, how to diminish the terror I was living with every hour of every day. But instead I get, “You just do”, like some perverted ad for running shoes.

Harry was a man of the cloth, a retired minister. I had expected some words about God and prayer and Jesus and miracles and faith making you whole. I had expected Bible verses. Something. Anything. Just a little bit of heaven to hold onto. “You just do.”

“You just do.”

Those turned out to be the wisest words I have ever heard.

Please share your life experiences with me, either through comments here, or by emailing me if you don't want a public view. (See my profile for the address.)