Who Was That Man

A nurse on the intensive care ward took the tired and anxious looking serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain he was experiencing, he dimly saw a young man in uniform standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The young man wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp hand and squeezed a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so the young military man could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young man sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. 

Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the young man take a break and go for a walk; however he refused.

Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the uniformed man was oblivious to her and all the other night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. 

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words to the dying man who said nothing, all he did was hold on tightly to his son's hand all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The young man released the now lifeless man's hand he had been holding all night and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, the young man patiently waited.

Finally, she turned to the young man and started to offer words of sympathy, but the man in uniform interrupted her and asked "Who was that man?"  

The nurse was startled, "Why he was your father," she answered. 

"No Ma' am', he wasn't my father, "I never saw this man before in my life. My dad is doing fine I just saw him yesterday."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you into his room?" asked the nurse. 

The young man replied "I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew that man needed his son at his side and his son wasn't here.

When I realized he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son and knowing how much he needed someone to be at his side, I just stayed." 

“I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey; his son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. What was this gentleman's name?

The nurse, with tears in her eyes, answered, "Son, that was Mr. Grey."