In The Arms of the Angel - Sarah MacLachlan and Josh Groban

[This is from last year.]

We were alone in the hospital room but he didn't acknowledge that I was there. A few moments later I looked up from my laptop and John was staring right at me, not that vacuous stare but what looked like a "Hey, what's up?" stare. I quickly put the laptop on the night table and went to his side.

"Hi there!" I wanted to asked him how he felt but I decided that would be a stupid question to ask of a man with severe ALS trying to recover from a heart attack who hasn't been able to talk in a month. I learned my lesson many months ago when I flippantly said "Get well soon!" He laughed at me then and said, "Get well? Really? No one with ALS gets well, Jimmy."

So I went on to say that I've been praying for his alertness and strength to return. I soon realized that he hadn't been looking at me at all. His eyes that I thought were looking right at me were still looking...where I had been, only they were more fixed now than before. And I wondered what he was looking at. Nothing? Something paranormal?

I remembered my grandfather saying that my late grandmother was standing at the end of his bed summoning him. My paternal grandfather, who never had a shred of Alzheimer's or other senility told us matter-of-factly, "She's asking me 'What are you waiting for?'"

I have no idea what my friend is looking at. But I do know that he is in some twilight zone between the realms of the known and the unknown. Science, with all its bells and whistles, can only look at a man in his state, physically recovering, yet mental capabilities unknowable, and say, "He's in the arms of the angel."

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