Job 19: 23-27a (links validated 10/23/25a)

I didn't need a crow to tell me Dad was going to die. He had been in the sunroom in his hospice bed for two days, and he would be gone within an hour. The family had gathered and we were prepared. We knew Dad was dying. Still, the poetry of the moment was not lost on me. The crow was perched in a familiar poplar right at eye level and only a few yards away, just outside of Dad's bedroom window. I had walked into the room to get something for Mom, looked up, and there it was.

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