As a new year begins, I find myself carrying a quiet observation shaped by loss.
Years ago, I cared for a woman I knew well. She was engaged, thoughtful, and stayed in contact over time. Then, quietly, she disappeared from care. There was no precise moment that marked the change—just a long silence.
Much later, I learned that her life had ended, that another life was lost in the course of her suffering, and that her family suffered deeply. By the time that knowledge reached me, years had passed. There had been no contact, no signal, no way to notice that the silence itself mattered.
What stays with me is not a single decision or failure. It is the recognition that silence can be easy to overlook, especially over time, and especially when there is no structure designed to notice it.
I share this with humility and respect for every life affected, and with care for the limits of what can be understood after such loss. Some experiences do not offer lessons so much as they leave us changed.
Moving forward, I hold a quieter commitment: to listen more carefully to the silence of others, and to notice absence itself before it becomes irreversible.
Take care and be well,
Dr. Lawrence M. Nelson, MD, MBA
Director, My 28 Days® Initiative
President, Mary Elizabeth Conover Foundation, Inc.
