…Not hearing the downstairs bathroom door reopen, I decided to go back down and check on Cary. Perhaps I could give him some stomach medicine, get him some water, or run a hot bath for him. I could see through the louvered door that he was slumped over, apparently sleeping.
Cary was a funny guy when it came to sleeping. His pillow was a very thin “pancake” that we teased him about. Often on a cold afternoon, he would sleep flat out on our warm hardwood living room floor with no pillow. In the summer heat, I would often find him asleep on the cool grass outside. Working late at night, he would fall asleep leaning over on his drafting table. In the kitchen earlier that morning, I had noticed his Bible opened to 1 Samuel 12 on the table, and figured he had fallen asleep after reading it hours before.
At first I didn’t think much of his bathroom sleeping spot. I stood there at the closed door for a minute, and then looked closer through the slat openings to see if his breathing was steady. Then I quietly and slowly opened the door so as not to disturb his rest.
Not seeing his chest moving in and out, I placed my hand on his back, and there was nothing—no rise and fall, no heartbeat, no movement….