It’s a sad fact that often in the Palliative Care Ward at the SJRH a patient must die for another patient to have a bed. My father obtained one after Margaret Estabrooks died. At the time, I had no idea who she was. I’ve recently learned that she was the mother of one of my parents neighbours. This is the same neighbour who’s husband had also died of the same form of cancer my dad had. She’s also the neighbour who used to come visit my parents and baked dad his favourite blueberry muffins.

Sometimes, despite the concept of six degrees of separation, the circle surrounding us can be infinitely small.

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