She had lingered. Maybe knowing intuitively what he was really saying, that he was tired of fighting the illness. She didn’t want to leave his side, even though the doctors said he was out of danger. She reminded him that she would be there in the morning to daven with him. She told me she woke in the middle of the night and had the strongest urge to go back to the hospital and make sure he was fighting hard to get back to himself, but she shrugged it off, feeling foolish. And later, the hospital called, and he was gone. She wondered if he had known the night before and had chosen, in his own way, to say goodbye, goodbye forever.
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