It was the kind of car trip that we all make at one time or another. The kind of car trip that everyone dreads. You gas up the car, buy an egg mcmuffin and coffee at the drive-up window at McDonald's, drive 2 hours east, find a place in the parking ramp at the hospital, ask where the intensive care area is, then look for room 6. In room 6, you find the little lady, who has already had 84 birthdays. She is lying there, a mask covering most of her face. Her lungs are very weak, she is badly in need of oxygen, her heart is damaged and her kidneys have quit working. Her family and her friends have gathered, and everyone knows what is ahead. Things had happened suddenly. A week earlier the deeply religious little lady, who had lost her husband a dozen years earlier, had seemed so vibrant. People guessed she'd probably live to be 90. Maybe 95. But last Friday there were signs that the little body wasn't working quite so well. After tests took place, doctors mentioned the probability of a blood infection. Those are words that no one wants to hear. Certainly people in the medical community do not want to say those words. Those people know how devastating a blood infection can be. The little lady had called 911 herself at 10 o'clock Monday night, and the ambulance transported her to the emergency room. When people began hearing the words blood infection, phone calls began. The sons made sure all of the relatives were aware of what was going on, Mention was made of the damage the infection had done on the little lady's body. People were gassing up their cars from 2 hours away, from 2 minutes away. They came into room 6, said hello to those already there with hugs and handshakes. They moved slowly to the bed where the little lady was fighting for each breath. They held her hand, kissed her forehead, said their words softly. There were many tears. It was especially difficult for the sons, the daughters-in-law, the grandchildren and the little lady's only surviving sibling. Some stayed for 6 hours, some stayed one hour. Some were staying overnight, some longer. Some were making the 2-hour trip west. Those folks said goodbye to others in the crowded room, and said they'd see them at the visitation, the funeral service at her church and the burial. Everyone knew those things would happen very soon. Everyone knew the little lady would be joining her husband, one of her sons who had died tragically in an airplane crash many years earlier, her parents, her brother and two of her sisters and their husbands in Heaven. UPDATE--Jesus lifted Miquie Bruzek of Cedar Rapids into his loving arms early Friday morning.