I got hundreds of messages about the unexpected death of Herman yesterday, he was in the hospital and expected to come back to the Mansion Monday or Tuesday. The staff was shocked and saddened by his death, he was much loved there, and it seems, elsewhere.

One message stuck out on my Facebook page, it was from his daughter Marlene, thanking all of the people who loved her father and cared for  him, inside and out of the Mansion. She said something that stuck in my mind, she said “a special angel had gone to Heaven.”

I don’t know about heaven, but somehow, the term “special angel” fit Herman. i smiled, I cannot imagine my daughter describing me in that way, I do not have Herman’s innate and very transparent sweetness. His love for the baby goat was a convincing metaphor for the love in his heart, even as so many hearts seem to be turning to stone.

What was it about Herman that touched so many people, that was so evident from just a handful of photographs. I suppose special angels have the power to do that. The Mansion is a compelling, even fascinating place, although few people come to look inside.

The residents talk often of the sense of community there, how the residents look out for one another, care about one another. They feel save there, but they are keenly aware of having left the outside world behind, and of how the outside world often seems unaware of  your existence.

Herman gave me a gift in that he was so grateful for any attention paid him, his smile, for all his fragility, was deep and wide. He just seemed to have that gift of being loved by everyone around him. I saw right away that Red was not as at ease with him as he usually is, and I have seen that before, it sometimes – not always – means the person is losing their spirit and preparing to let go. Therapy dogs are not mystics or psychics, their instincts are so keen they just sense when someone is beginning to fade. It throws them off.

Herman was eager to tell me his story, I so appreciated hearing it. This work is all about stories, really, everyone I meet has a powerful story to tell.

When Red sees Connie or Christie, he rushes to them, makes eye contact, stays close. He couldn’t do that for long with Herman. The baby goat, on the other hand, melted into Herman’s arms and went to sleep, she was completely at home there, the two of them made some kind of connection of the heart, and Herman responded to it.

I really saw very little of him, an aide told me I ought to see him, he was “just the sweetest man.” That was true.

I think the gift people gave him was the gift of being known, recognized, worth writing letters and messages to, worth sending stuffed animals and tin sculptures and photographs. I think we all need to be known, especially at the edge of life, we need to be told that our stories are important, and that people want to hear them.

There is much emotion and change inside of the Mansion, the lists of residents changes almost every other day. They are all disparate and at different stages of life, they are not all the same thing. But there is one thing that connects them, they all want to be known and seen.

Thanks for giving Herman that gift. I think Marlene was right about Herman, he was a special angel, and they have their own power to be heard and  felt.