A Good Man's Death (Robert Lowe)

The day finally came. Over the past few weeks Mr. Lowe and I had become quite good friends. His stories always enraptured me and my company actually helped him he told me once. With each story I lived his life through his eyes and each one made me see something in myself. I got to where I would look forward to work for once. One night however, I walked in to see his bed empty. I didn't even need to ask what happened, because an empty bed around here always means the same thing.
His funeral was a small one. His will had set up his wishes and his belonging, the few he had, were donated to various charities. I was the only person in attendance. The crisp winter air licked my nose while the preacher spoke of the usual things. I stood there in awe, but not at the words. It was at the man leaving us. He was a great man who had done great things. His body was now gone but his spirit lived free, and I could feel him there. With his hand on my shoulder, I said my goodbyes as the Earth took him into its eternal embrace. Never will I forget this man, nor what he has done to me. Rest in peace Robert Lowe.