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The hand of yours that once held mine beneath the sea, the hand of yours drowning on that strange, forsaken shore. Was there no one to reach for you? Were the few sleeping pills all you had for company when sleep refused to come? Where were you in the hours I slept so soundly? The groan you uttered through that rigid respirator, the groan no one stopped to hear. I am sorry I could not hear it either. Now, may you unfasten the oxygen tank from your back, draw the breathing tube from your mouth, slip the flippers from your feet. May you swim, unbound. May you rest, at last.