The paramedics were there within 6 or 7 minutes of our 911 call. They worked on him for at least twenty minutes trying to revive him and get him stable before transporting him to the hospital. When they finally took him away, it didn’t look good. Word came a few hours later that he didn’t make it. We haven’t heard anything official but we think it was a heart attack.
He was an older guy but not that old, in his sixties I hear. A quiet guy, bachelor, who kept to himself. His name was Larry. I worked with him for years–and we hardly talked.
He seemed like he might be lonely. I thought about trying to get to know him better but I never made the effort. Years working within a few hundred feet of the guy, and I knew almost nothing about him.
Now it’s too late. I don’t know if he needed it or not but I could have been a friend to him, could have made a difference in his life just by being someone who would listen, and care.
Worst of all, for me, I never told him what I know about God. I hope he did, but I don’t know if he knew how much God loves him, and what Jesus did for him.
I may be writing about God, but I am not very saintly at this stage of my existence. I am, like most of us, trying to work it out. I am trying to be who God wants me to be, trying to care about who God cares about, which is everybody. Sometimes, like today, I can look back and see that I am not trying very hard.
I can’t get it back, my chance to make a difference in Larry’s life, maybe even in his eternity. All I can do is look for the next Larry and smile at him or her, and listen and care. A.J.