"Stat.. Stat.. Room 1607.. Mr. Evans is having an heart attack!" Linda jumped to her feet. She had the floor duty but was working on some records. She ran toward Mr. Evans' room. Mr. Evans was a nice man. He was in his sixties and been admitted for heart problems. Linda had gotten to know him. He had few visitors and it seemed no family. When she worked nights they would kid around and laugh.

As she entered in the room she could see it was bad. The Doctors were working furiously. She could see the fear in Mr. Evans' eyes. She reached over and took his hand. He pulled her down toward him. He spoke to her, "Call my daughter, her number is 763 4090. Call her and tell her I must see her. I have to talk to her."

Linda ran from the room and dialed the number. The daughter answered and Linda told her of the situation. The daughter cried out, "Don't let him die. Please, I am on my way. I must see him before he dies. We had a fight over a year ago and we haven't spoken since. I must see him. I have to tell him I am sorry and that I love him."

Linda walked back and forth by room 1607. She prayed and she watched the clock on the wall. Suddenly, she heard the sound she was dreading. The heart monitor's steady drone. No heart beat. She looked into the room. The Doctors had the paddles. They tried to shock the heart back to life. They were doing their best but it was hopeless. Ten more minutes passed and the Doctors turned away.

As they were walking out, a young woman was coming in. Her hair was disheveled, you could see she had just thrown on some clothes, her eyes were red from tears. Linda knew it was Mr. Evans' daughter. The young lady looked at the figure lying on the bed and her whole body sagged as she began to sob. Linda took her in her arms and turned her away from bed. She had come too late. Linda's own heart was breaking as she thought of the anguished pleas of Mr. Evans. As she remembered the cries of the young woman over the telephone.

Linda looked at Mr. Evans and she saw he was clutching something in his hand. She reached out and pulled a note from the clinched fist. She opened it and there in a hurried scrawl was the final message from Mr. Evans. The note said.. "Tell my daughter I am sorry. I know she is sorry, too. Tell her I love her with all my life and I know she loves me.."

Let's Talk About Forgiveness.

It is sad when we let the trivial things of life separate us from those that we truly love. We need to work at breaking down barriers. We need to tell people that we really do care. We need to learn to say.. "I am sorry." Before we lose the opportunity to make our true feelings know.

Too often.. we wait until it is too late. I have stood at too many grave sides and heard people say, why didn't call.. why didn't go by and see them one more time.. why didn't I make it right.

Is there some one you need to tell that you love them. Call them.. Right now.. tell them you love them.. and how special they are to you.