Jim Hollowood spent four months in hospice care at home last spring. Over that time, he became shaggier and shaggier. None of us caring for him felt able to give him a shave.
The ritual of a shave and a haircut was something Jim had always looked forward to. Hesitantly, I called his barber. Kind Mr. Foxx came and shaved him, twice.
His second visit was on the day Jim died. Somehow he knew Jim’s death was imminent, though I did not. He stayed with us for over an hour making gentle conversation.
It’s hard to say whether Jim was aware of his presence, but I felt his kindness in my bones, and I still do. — Judith Hollowood
I arrived at the airport parking deck early on a recent morning for my flight. I took the elevator down to the main floor and approach the moving walkway to the terminal. In front of me at the edge of the walkway was a young mother in a hijab carrying her baby, pushing a carriage loaded with stuff, and a massive suitcase by her side. I asked if she needed a hand. She nodded yes and said “suitcase” while pointing to the far other end of the walkway. I grabbed the suitcase with my one free hand and dragged it onto the walkway with me. As I started my mechanical journey, I noticed at the other end a gentleman was waving to me. I realized he was the woman’s partner and had two huge suitcases standing beside him. He greeted me with a huge smile, and extended his hands…one to shake mine and the other to grab the suitcase from me. We parted with a simple “Have a good day” and a smile.
