" Room in Heaven "

Last night I took care of Mary. She is 92, sharp as a tack and dear as the day is long. Once a week I go to her apartment and " Help her get ready for bed. " I make the coffee, wind the cuckoo clock, put in her eye drops and bring her nightie to her. She does the rest. She has her routine, a lovely place to live, four children and countless grandchildren, many who live nearby.

Before she went to bed she told me her dearest and oldest friend, who she was due to have lunch with, called to tell her she had been diagnosed with dementia. A wiz at math, she knew something was wrong when she began to struggle with balancing her checkbook. Soon simple subtraction and addition became impossible. As Mary told me this a deep sadness I had never seen came over her. She realized, though her friend was only one town over, this meant she was losing her. " I don't have many friends left you know. Most of the friends I have are younger, but it's not the same." I agreed. Old friends are like gold. She went on to say, " I miss my John most of all. I'll never get used to that. I wish there was room in heaven for me now."

This strong, positive woman looked down at her hands, twisted her wedding ring and wept. I wept inside for her. I held her hands before she went to bed and told her what an amazing woman she is and what a treasure she is to her family. But at that moment I wondered, if she wants to go why isn't there " Room in heaven " for her?