I smoothed his blanket, and closed his eyes, and called Dr.

Okafor.

I have been present for a good many deaths.

It is part of the work, and you learn, over time, to carry it — to be the steady one in the room, to give the family the gift of your composure when theirs is gone.

What no one tells you is that your own are different.

When it is your own, all the training that let you stand calmly through strangers’ worst hours does not spare you; it just makes you calm while it happens to you, which is somehow lonelier.

I did not fall apart in that room.