Mourning

I’ve worked in downtown Boston for the last 10 years and have seen my fair share of “scenes.” My (undisclosed) federal agency job requires me to interact with the public on a daily basis. Two years ago I was the first person to respond to a heroin overdose. I waited with the unconscious junkie, making sure he didn’t drown in his vomit until the EMTs arrived. Another time, a drunk, homeless person broke his nose and his blood was smeared everywhere. I did my best to calm him down until medical personnel could help.

But today I had a first.

Going to work around 8:10 am, I walked past the Irish Famine Memorial on Washington St. Beside the memorial, I noticed two Boston policemen, one of whom was interviewing a woman and the other was assisting a medical examiner. There was yellow police tape surrounding the memorial and then I saw it. Is it an ‘it’ or was it a ‘him?’ A white sheet covering the body. I stopped in my tracks. In my world this is what you see on t.v., not on the way to work on a Sunday morning. I quickly said, “Lord, have mercy on his soul” and continued on.

Who was he? She? Homeless? Does he have someone care about his fate?

Those of you reading, say a prayer for this soul mourned by God.

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