ICU and a Man Named Mike

Last Friday night I rode with my sweet friend K to see her grandpa who is in ICU in a town 2 hours away. While I wasn't facing the same emotions as her and her family, the whole night was a precious experience.

I sat in the waiting room while others took turns going into the room. I had met everyone who was there, except for one aunt, during the summer. The conversation bounced back and forth between serious and humorous, between the decisions that needed to be made based on what the doctor was saying and teasing one another about many different things.

We loaded up and headed out to a restaurant to eat after the ICU closed to visitors. Once there, they seated our party of 7 in the back. As we headed back, we passed a booth, where a man, disheveled and scruffy, was slumped over sleeping, with only a pot of coffee and a glass of water on the table.

We ordered and K's dad mentioned the man, whom many of us had not even seen walking in. Someone said we should ask if he had anything to eat. We stopped a waiter and asked if he knew if the guy was homeless. The young man said that he was and that usually the restaurant would give him food at the end of the night.

After we got our food, our table continued to talk about the man, and it was suggested that we should ask him if he wanted a meal and we would buy it for him. When our waitress stopped to checked on us, we asked her if she would see if he wanted to order something. She walked over and woke him up. She came back over and said he ordered a meal.

Later as we were almost finished, the first waiter came over and told us, " Mike says thank you."

You know, what gets me most is that when we walked in, no one knew what that family was facing; the possibility of losing a father and a grandfather. And, they were loud and rambunctious as we went through our meal. But they looked out for the interests of another, someone who needed a warm meal.