This morning, an elderly gentleman, whose acquaintance I got through a friend of mine, died of Covid. He was admitted to the hospital on Monday, to the ICU and on ventilator on Tuesday. Today, Wednesday, it was all over. Earlier in the month he went through an orthopaedic surgery. He came back home, he seemed to recover from the surgery. Probably he caught the virus at the hospital.
The man was unassuming, quiet, polite and a hero. Probably a war hero too, I am not sure. But in his personal life he was a hero. His wife was bedridden for about 15 years and he took care of her. After his wife's death he took care of his adult daughters both of whom were undergoing depression for many years and hence largely incapable of shouldering responsibilty. In facing, these adversities, he didn't show much pain. He faced life as it came. The one time I spoke to him and asked him how he could do all that he did, he told me there really wasn't much of a decision to make. Certain things were to be done, he did them. That's all.
That's all, is it? When I turn around and see humanity around me and the complaints that each of us has, I wonder. How many of us can hold a candle to the hero?
I only wish I had met him and had known him better.
RIP, sir.
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