Two of our favorite patients passed away. Claude, age 95, on July 1st, and, on the Fourth of July, his lovely bride, Adeline, age 101. They had been coming to the office for as long as I can remember, with smiles always on their faces and invariably a little joke from Claude. They were a team, an inspiration, a pleasure to be around. As they got older (and shorter), they would lean on each other as they slowly walked down the long path from the elevator to our office, then back down again. Every Spring, Claude would load up a couple of bags of sweet grapefruit from his prized tree and bring them up for me. Last year, he started to ask me to walk downstairs with them after their appointments so I could get the heavy fruit from his trunk. I worried about them a lot. They were active in their church and the V.F.W., but their families lived out of state. I wondered what one would do without the other and how sad it would be when that day came. Today at their funeral, the priest described how they would lean on each other as they made their way down the aisle to receive communion every Sunday, including the one the week before they died, slowly helping each other. Following the beautiful service, Shawn introduced himself to Claude and Adeline's son. At an even six feet, plus maybe another inch with his fancy suit shoes on, Shawn shook the son's hand and offered condolences. The son smiled and said, "Oh. I thought you'd be taller. Dad said you were 6'4". He thought the world of you."
Ditto. Now we get to look up to them.
