This episode of The Nocturness is sponsored by the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care.

If you're a physician, advanced practice registered nurse or physician assistant, looking to cultivate

well-being and joy in medicine through an evidence-based training program, learn more at zencare.org

slash find joy. Support for the Nocturnist comes from the California Medical Association.

At the nocturnist, we are careful to ensure that all stories comply with health care privacy laws.

Details may have been changed to ensure patient confidentiality.

All views expressed are those of the person speaking and not their employer.

Okay. person speaking and not their employer. You're listening to the Nocturnists.

Stories from the world of medicine.

I'm Emily Silverman.

Today's story featuring physician Ogilin Mark begins with a mystery and ends with a heartfelt conversation between

Augie and his father, in which Agi realizes that despite their differences, he and his dad have a lot more in common than he initially thought.

After the story, Augie and I talk about how sometimes the easiest way to talk about an issue is actually to talk around it, at least in the

beginning, and how Aghi's childhood as the son of a pastor gave rise to his physician career.

Augie grew up in the Midwest, but now practices primary care in New Haven, Connecticut,

where he's on faculty at the Yale School of Medicine.

Take a listen to Augie's story, obituaries from my father.

Thank you. Obituaries from my father. In the spring of 2020, a mystery, a mystery appeared in my mailbox.

It arrived in a white envelope with a red stamp, and inside was an obituary.

Except I didn't know the person who had died, and when I looked at the envelope, there was no return address. Someone, anonymously, had mailed me an obituary.

At that point in my life, I had other problems. I was a resident doctor working in the hospital in the beginning of a pandemic.

And each morning, I ride my bike to the hospital on eerily silent streets.

...