I got word that one of my patients passed away by means of MAID today. It sits heavy on my mind, spirit, being this evening. The thing is, death is not new in the work I do; death is inevitable, oftentimes sooner rather than later. Death is a robber, insensitive to person, relationships, time. It comes, and I've seen one too many a person transition from palliative care to hospice and finally, to the great abyss.

I am no healer; I do recognize, however, that the presence, kindness and care that my team and I provide can soften the painful edges of someone's journey. Indeed, when I pan out of this singular incident, I realize that what I am able to offer is sacred. These hands and feet can't turn back time, can't reverse progressive neurological disease, can't push back the tides of sickness. They can, however, hold and comfort a person journeying through life with x,y,z.

These days I continue to ruminate on the circumstances of life, and how I really can't take anything for granted. That nothing is truly mine to grasp, and that everything requires stewardship. There is an invitation to live with humility, and with a reverent posture towards God. And to accept that there are questions that will never be answered on this side of heaven. And so I grapple and wrestle with why things must exist as they do and I trust that even feeble faith will bridge the void.