We walked into the Intensive Care Unit. She was prone, silent, head back. The mask kept her breathing; it was strapped tightly to her face. Her husband of 56 years was with her in the sterile, machine-filled room. It was difficult to see her, my wife’s sister–once so full of fun and jokes and laughter, now helpless. “She’s been like this a few days,” her husband said. We read Scripture, and we prayed. We had been praying ever since we had heard she was sick.

The ICU nurse, Dave, patiently gave us a full review. Several levels of infection in her body–including the flu–had been addressed and overcome. But she had had a heart attack while in the hospital. “Her heart is weak. She can’t really breathe on her own,” he explained. My wife’s other sister and husband arrived.

We read more Scripture. The room was filled with God’s word. Now with the family assembled, her husband knew what had to be done. “She can’t stand the mask,” he said. He was sure; he knew her so well. “She cannot stand that mask. Her heart is weak, but she cannot endure the mask . . . she cannot speak . . . is barely able to respond. I am not sure she knows we’re here.”

After a while he said it, “We’re going to take off the mask. She’s in God’s hands.”

The “Intensive Doctor” (that’s what they called him) came. He took us all to the waiting room for a conference. He was patient, very careful to explain the situation. He asked about her health in the last several months. “She cannot breathe on her own. She will always have to have the mask. She would have to go home with it. If we remove the mask, it may be an hour, it may be a week.”

“Then it will be in God’s hands,” her husband said. “It is always in God’s hands,” the doctor replied (making me think Christ lives in him too.) He was so patient, so ready to answer our questions. And then we were done.

Her husband told Dave, “She wants the mask removed.” He knows her well. “She cannot endure that mask.” He and I went out of the hospital, outside for a breath of air. He walked with a cane. His knee bothers him. Dave, the nurse, was preparing to do all he could for her comfort. We came back. Carefully, gently, Dave removed the mask. He administered a med for her comfort. He gave her oxygen.

Her husband held her hand. My wife and I were on the other side of her bed. She labored to breathe. We waited. Breathing was hard. (And we take it for granted!) Her breathing slowed . . . and slowed. It was only 30 minutes. She stopped breathing. Her husband was holding her hand. The words came to my mind, “til death to us part.” He had pledged her that 56 years before. Here he was, holding her hand. He wept.

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” Amen.