It's the first beautiful day of Spring. temperatures creeping into the 80s. Lovely.
Around 11 am, he puts his favorite lawn chair in a sunny spot, grabs a cup of coffee and has a seat in the sun. He's 93 years old.
It's a beautiful day.
Nine and a half hours later, we find him. Still sitting in the char, still holding his (now empty) coffee cup. From a distance, it looks like he just rested his chin on his chest and went to sleep. Up close, I see the signs.
For him, I think this beautiful day never ended.
For us on the engine and ambulance crews, we smile quietly and look inward. Passing is sad but, somehow, this one seems to fit.
Not a bad way to go.
-maddog
