We have before us not simply a phrase, a link of words, but a creation of a new concept

It should have been a summer like any other. Our bein hazmanim plans lent no premonitions or warning that my life was about to be altered, the timeless patter of all my years about to be disrupted.
It was a 2 a.m. call that set it in motion. And less than 24 hours later, after jumping on a late-night plane and driving four hours from JFK, I stood outside the ICU of Sinai Hospital in Baltimore, my brain not fully registering the events that led me here.
Part of my senses were so heightened. I registered the hushed crepe-soled footsteps of the nurses, the whoosh of automatic doors. Yet part of my senses had shut down, mercifully, so I couldn’t comprehend why I was standing outside the room that was hosting my father’s last moments.
I was so grateful that I had made it in time. But the enormity of the minutes ticking by set up a clamber in my head, a pounding that deafened any further emotion.
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