Good Reason

He heard the shards of pain in her words, the shattered pauses to collect breath. He knew full well the grief he was hearing, he's for sure been there himself.

He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes now talking together, mostly she spoke, telling the sad story again. Her elderly mom was suddenly hospitalized, she heard late, then was blocked from visiting. Covid. No exceptions allowed.

Anguishing with her and all reasonable options exhausted, the hospital staff could only monitor and report the elderly mom's rapid decline. Higher fever, coma, in a few hours her beloved mom was gone. Now she's calling family around the country, but felt more in shock herself, ready to collapse.

He spoke softly to her, evenly, even as her own voice darkly panicked, and she felt a failure for not arriving sooner. He recalled how she always took the best care of her mother, how she sacrificed her own life, how much her love and respect meant, and how her mom was certainly shielded by this knowing. And, how her presence would only have worried her mom. So, it's best and fortunate her suffering was minimal. She thanked him deeply. His words struck a nerve of relief, forgiveness.

Big pictures are always at hand, always an option. He knew the truth, of course, from the phone call's first moments, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her- and there was no good reason to tell her- that she had in fact called the wrong number.