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I hadn't seen him in nine days.

I hadn't checked up on him through the computer in three days. The last time I looked, he was getting better and moving closer to going home.

I found out this morning that he had suddenly gotten worse through another resident who didn't know him but had helped move him to the ICU.

I learned an hour and a half later that he had already left this world and was with his Creator.

Ten minutes after my discovery, I was holding his mom in my arms and whispering, "I'm so sorry."

Fifteen minutes after that, I was weeping in the stairwell.

Ten hours later, I'm still praying for his sweet family.

I'm hoping that it will stop hurting in a few days, but I doubt it will. I mourn his passing but rejoice for his healing; he will never need my help again.