I wonder if he felt conflicted.
I wonder, at what point did he know he was dying?
When did he think, “this is it…”? Did he fight it? Did he try to stay?
I know he tried at least once, very valiantly. He sat up one more time.
I wonder if an angel,
a handsome, gritty, masculine, rugged man whom Robb would trust,
came to him and said, “Hey, buddy. It’s okay. She’s okay. They’re okay. She’s stronger than you can believe. Everyone is taken care of. And it’s time.”
I wonder if he looked over his shoulder as he left,
If he watched me, kneeling over the shell of him.
I wonder if he had any second thoughts, if he tried to come back.
I wonder what he saw, what he knew, how long he was with me before he was present with The Lord.
I hope he had a moment to know that he was going.