I am lying in the hospital bed alone, listening to the charades of people shuffling through the hallway, coming in and out of each room. It is the family visit hour. I am staying in the hospital for a short term, and hopefully, I may be able to get out of here on Monday. However, most of the people I have met on this floor would need some contingency plan in place before they can go back home. I am the youngest among the patients here. Most of them are seniors. I am in a semi private room. The lady who shares the room with me is going to be 90 this year. For the last few days, I have watched and listened to the conversations and movements on the floor. I have seen the ugliest family feud over family estate before my own eyes. I am sitting here alone without my family beside me. I can sense and relate the feelings of loneliness to many of these seniors who don’t get any family to visit them. This is the situation that I can foresee myself in the future, being old and alone. Everything happens for a reason. I start to wonder if it is a sign to show me that I should volunteer for lonely seniors who simply have nobody to come visit them in the hospital.