Now I Understand
James R. Elstad 

I met her over forty years ago.
There she sat regally in her hospital bed.
Mr. Kivet, Her husband of fifty-five years, sat slumped in a chair.
I asked him if there was anything I could do?
He said, “No, as a Christian Scientist it’s hard enough just coming to the hospital.” 
Not sure of how to respond, I put a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll pray for you and your wife.”

I left and walked down the hall, then leaned against a wall.
Why had I been so weak? Why couldn’t I share my faith?
Later I visited the Hospital Chaplain’s office and left a note.
At services the next morning Chaplain told the story of Mrs. Kivet.
“I visited her late yesterday afternoon.
She was alert, and eager to talk, she was ready for death, she was tired of suffering.”

“I explained the plan of salvation; she was pleased to know there was eternal hope.”
“Her only fear was what would happen to her best friend.”
“She passed last night, the Night Nurse told me Mr. Kivet was there.”
The next Christmas as I took my little girl shopping.
She pulled me from store to store, looking for treasures galore.
I saw him on a bench just outside a shop.

Slumped in the same position as I saw him last. I started toward him.
A little hand pulled at my arm. “Daddy please I wanna go in here.”
As I followed my charge I looked at that lonely man and wondered how he felt after losing his best friend.

I met my Bonniejean just 22 years ago.
Just three weeks ago yesterday I lost her.
Oh how she sat regally in her hospital bed.
Staff, friends, and family came to pay their last respects.
She told them her only fear was what would happen to me, her best friend.
Her last words to me were: “I’m tired and want to go dance with Jesus.”
The end came, and I was there.

And now I’m the one alone in a crowd, slumped on a bench.
Now, Mr. Kivet, I understand.