“This was the year that my husband died,” says RHODA BLECKER of Bellingham, Washington. “We called hospice on Friday, just days after the doctor had told us Keith had six months to live. We were not that fortunate, and he died on Sunday. He waited until only he and I were home, and I was right beside him, singing the song we blessed each other with every Shabbos. My husband died just as he wished: in our home, in our bed. It was a blessing. And now my prayer is that when it’s my time to die, Keith comes to get me so that we can be together again. As for me, one of the nuns who came the evening he died said that she thought the grace of God was all around me. And so, I believe, it is.”
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