An unseen narrator recounts the dying and death of her loved one.

Writer/blogger Fran Moreland Johns was moved by the film, Five Minutes to Five Hours, and its depiction of the moments immediately before and after the death of a beloved. She reflected on her experience several years ago:

"When my own good husband died, at home in our apartment,” Johns writes, "I was fine with attending him through the very few days it took to complete that journey; but I balked at being present when the cremation people came and took away his body. So from another room I heard the front door close on their departure – and realized, with a sense of utter desolation, that I was the only person in my suddenly silent apartment. Next, I realized I was in a retirement building into which we’d moved a few years earlier so I could see us through this. 'So, why am I here?' I asked myself; by now it was 7 AM. Thereupon I went down to the dining room and surfed among the tables saying, 'Bud just died; I need a lot of warmth and hugs.' Not what most folks want for a conversation-opener while they’re having their morning coffee, but everyone blinked a few times and then surrounded me with comfort. Sometimes it takes a village to get through these moments. Or the friends who surrounded filmmaker Paula Levine as her husband’s body was taken from the hospital."