mercy

Post script on the Larry story. Maybe the mercy of God is not an unsolvable mystery. Perhaps, like Larry, we get a Polly who enters our life when we need help the most. I see my wife Karen in that light, an undeserved gift of grace, of mercy. Our 28th anniversary is in a few weeks and we will go back to Lake Mohonk in New York to celebrate. It is not easy to be with someone who has the lonely mind of a writer that often does not live in the present.
Back to Larry. Eventually, Larry reconciled with his father who lived the last months of his life in a nursing home in New Hampshire. I met the father once expecting an ogre, but time had reversed for him and he was more like a happy child. The home did not use restraints and his father was falling out of bed with the result being some nasty bruising. Larry would go over at night and sleep on the floor next to the old man's bed. He would fall on Larry, who was much softer than the floor. His presence also kept him from wandering. Seldom, if ever, do we get to repay our angel of mercy. All we can do is find someone who does not deserve our kindness on the scale of men and for one moment be an angel.