The last chess match

My playmate, a young man of 21, with an enviable attitude, despite his precarious health, is the victim of an aggressive osteosarcoma, for which he had a leg amputated and has now invaded his entire left lung.

He looked at me, while I let myself be carried away by existentialist thoughts about how a young man maintains that good spirit in the face of his approaching death. With the utmost tranquility he plays chess with me, suddenly, he interrupted my musing, saying:

-My doctor, you're distracted, if you play like that, I'll eat your bishop, and in two more moves I'll beat you. What are you worried about?
-If you're worried about me, you know, I couldn't be better, even if you want me to be.

Then he moved his knight and I lost my bishop, while he smiled, only the spasms of coughing, took away his smile at times. He continued to watch me, as if he knew what I was thinking, I made a clumsy move, so that my king was trapped between his rook and queen, only a defenseless pawn separated me from the inevitable checkmate, then my patient commented again:

-My dear doctor, you have been my friend during these weeks, and believe me, I know where I am! I am like that king, trapped, and you are that pawn that stubbornly tries to delay the inevitable.

-Your attitude is admirable, but in the next moves I will give the "checkmate".

-Oh! doctor, I can imagine what you think, but I can't know how you feel, I only know that you are my partner in this last chess game, and that when it is over, you will set up the board again to play with another challenger, you will do so, every day of your life!

-Don't worry about me anymore.

-He continued with difficulty, for lack of air.

-I can say with all my heart that you played well . . . now, tell me what do you want me to say to that dear person you are thinking of when you see her in the hereafter?

With that question he left me speechless. He closed with "checkmate" his last move, smiled, and again the cough, this time with more difficulty to breathe, interrupted him.

-It's late my doctor, I'm going to rest.

I helped him to lie down, I looked at him before leaving the room, he raised his right thumb as a sign of being well, as I closed the door I said a few words to his mother, who knew what was coming.

That night, I didn't go home, I stayed at my office desk, thinking about my patient's words. It was a long night, when sleep overcame me, soon after some rays of sunlight came through the window, I woke up, and as soon as I got dressed, I went up to the hospital straight to my patient's room.

My playmate, a child with a whole life ahead of him, had left this world, in the early morning. I filled out the death certificate, as I handed it to his mother, she gave me a chess piece with a note that read:

-My doctor thanks you, keep firm as this pawn, your patients need you like this.
P.S. I will tell that person that I miss him very much. And to God, I will also give him your message.