“Give ’em to grandpa, Audri,” I said.

“Look, Jim. Audri brought you your Kleenex.”

I scooted over closer to the head of the bed and encouraged Audri to move nearer. With my hand still holding Pops’, I said, “Here Audri. Put your hand on grandpa’s.”

Audri reached out and put five tiny pink fingers on the large, brown-splotched hand, next to mine.

For several minutes the three of us held hands like that. Karen stood on the other side of the bed, slowly stroking her father’s head.

And then, I felt another presence there for those few minutes that seemed forever, a presence that stretched across time and space and held the four of us in an indescribable bond of faith, family and love.

Pops died Sept. 24, after a courageous battle with progressive supranuclear palsy. Thanks to his family and the guidance of Memorial Medical Center’s hospice program, he died with dignity in his own home. Rick Wade is a freelance writer living in Jacksonville.