On Easter Monday, April 21, 2025, the world lost one of its most beloved spiritual leaders. At 88 years old, Pope Francis quietly passed away in the Apostolic Palace, just hours after what would become his last public address from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica. In the days since, details have emerged about the circumstances surrounding his final hours. Now, Dr. Sergio Alfieri—director of the medical-surgical department at Rome’s Gemelli Polyclinic—has offered an intimate account of those closing moments. In a series of interviews with Corriere della Sera and La Repubblica, Dr. Alfieri shared how he was summoned before dawn, what he observed on arrival, and the poignant words the pontiff spoke when he could no longer perform one of his most cherished Holy Week rituals.
Pope Francis’s Recent Health Struggles
Pope Francis endured multiple health challenges in the months leading up to his death. In late January, he was hospitalized for a severe bout of double pneumonia that required five weeks of in-hospital care. His medical team discharged him on March 23 and prescribed a strict regime of two months’ rest. Yet, true to his indefatigable spirit, Francis resumed select pastoral duties within weeks—most notably his Holy Thursday visit to Rome’s Regina Coeli prison and his Easter Sunday gathering in St. Peter’s Square. These acts of service were emblematic of his pontificate: an unwavering commitment to the marginalized and a willingness to show solidarity even at personal cost.
A Fateful Morning: The Call at 5:30 A.M.
In the pre-dawn darkness of April 21, Dr. Alfieri received an urgent summons to the Vatican. He recalled receiving a phone call at 5:30 A.M., alerting him to a medical emergency involving the pontiff. Within twenty minutes, he arrived at the Apostolic Palace. Despite the brisk spring air, the atmosphere inside was grim and hushed. Nurses and aides moved silently through the corridors, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and resignation.
First Impressions: Conscious but Unresponsive
Upon entering Pope Francis’s private quarters, Dr. Alfieri found the pontiff lying supine, eyes open but unseeing. Although the pontiff’s chest rose and fell with steady rhythm, there was no voluntary response to voice or touch. “I ascertained that there were no respiratory difficulties,” Dr. Alfieri later told Corriere della Sera. “But when I called his name, he did not answer. I applied even painful stimuli, yet there was no reaction.” In those charged moments, the doctor realized that the pontiff was trapped within a body that could no longer act as his conduit for service and prayer.
Diagnosis: A Devastating Stroke
Dr. Alfieri’s bedside assessment pointed unmistakably to a catastrophic cerebrovascular event. The pontiff had suffered an acute stroke so severe that, within the span of an hour, it had rendered him comatose. While a computed tomography (CT) scan could have provided definitive imaging, Dr. Alfieri judged that transporting an unstable, comatose patient risked precipitating cardiac arrest in transit. “Even if we had reached the hospital and performed a scan, nothing could have reversed the damage,” he said. “He would have died on the way.”
Debate Over Further Intervention
According to the doctor, some Vatican officials suggested immediately transferring Pope Francis back to Gemelli Polyclinic for advanced intervention. Yet Dr. Alfieri stood firm in his conviction that such a move would be both futile and inhumane. The sheer severity of the stroke, coupled with the pontiff’s frail condition following weeks of pneumonia, meant that no surgical or pharmacological therapy could restore consciousness. In effect, the decision was made to let Pope Francis spend his final hours within the sanctuary of his own residence—surrounded by aides, close associates, and the gentle hush of a dawn in Vatican City.
Holy Week Traditions and the Foot-Washing Rite
Pope Francis’s final regret—but also his final affirmation of humility—centers on a single symbol of Holy Thursday: the Mandatum, or the foot-washing ceremony. Since the inception of his papacy, Francis had made it a signature act to wash the feet of prisoners, refugees, the homeless, and other marginalized individuals. In 2013, he astonished the world by traveling to a juvenile detention center in Rome on Holy Thursday, personally washing the feet of twelve young inmates of various faiths. Over the years, this ritual became a focal point for his message on servant leadership and the call to “wash the feet” of one another in everyday gestures of compassion.
The Regina Coeli Visit of 2025
This year, on April 17, Francis visited Regina Coeli prison as part of the Holy Thursday tradition. Although his strength had not fully returned after recovering from pneumonia, he insisted on being present. He greeted inmates one-by-one, conveyed words of encouragement, and presented each with a Rosary and a pocket-sized Gospel. However, due to his ongoing recovery, he was unable to perform the foot-washing rite in its full form. He explained to the assembled prisoners, “I have always liked coming to prison on Holy Thursday to do the washing of the feet like Jesus. This year, I cannot do it, but I want to be close to you. I pray for you and your families.”
The Pope’s Final Regret
Dr. Alfieri revealed that, in those last lucid moments before slipping into a coma, Pope Francis spoke only one regret. With characteristic humility, the pontiff lamented that he had been unable to perform the foot-washing ritual that he cherished so deeply. “He regretted he could not wash the feet of the prisoners,” the doctor recounted. “‘This time, I couldn’t do it,’ was the last thing he said to me.” In that simple admission, Francis encapsulated the very essence of his papacy: an unyielding devotion to service, a spirit of solidarity with the least among us, and a profound awareness of his own human limitations.
Reflections on Service, Humility, and Leadership
Throughout his tenure as Bishop of Rome, Pope Francis repeatedly emphasized that true leadership is measured by one’s capacity to serve. His final regret underscores how deeply he internalized that lesson. Even as the supreme pontiff of a 1.3-billion-member Church, he never wavered in presenting himself not as an exalted monarch, but as a fellow pilgrim, a humble servant. The foot-washing ceremony—rooted in Jesus’s action at the Last Supper (John 13:1–17)—became for Francis more than liturgy: it was a lived expression of his theological conviction that “the Church exists to heal wounds, not to condemn.”
A Life of Compassion: From Buenos Aires to the Vatican
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires in 1936, Francis experienced his own share of hardship. His family endured poverty, his father’s illness, and the loss of several siblings. Ordained a Jesuit priest in 1969, he later served as Archbishop of Buenos Aires before being elected pope in 2013. From the start, he took the name Francis to honor St. Francis of Assisi, signaling a commitment to poverty, care for the environment, and interreligious dialogue. He championed the cause of refugees, criticized consumerism, and called for a “Church of the Poor.” In so doing, he rekindled the Christian imagination around mercy, simplicity, and outreach to those pushed to society’s margins.
Reactions from the Global Catholic Community
News of Pope Francis’s passing prompted an outpouring of grief and gratitude across the world. Cardinals, bishops, and laity alike reflected on the transformative impact of his papacy. Pilgrims left flowers, letters, and notes of thanks at sites across Rome. Messages of condolence arrived from heads of state, religious leaders of other faiths, and ordinary believers who felt personally touched by Francis’s pastoral approach. In many ways, his death feels less like an ending and more like a call to continue the work he championed: advocating for the vulnerable, bridging divides, and prioritizing compassion over dogma.
The Broader Symbolism of His Final Words
That single phrase—“I couldn’t do it”—resonates far beyond the specific act of washing feet. It speaks to the universal human impulse to serve, to reach out, and to extend grace. It also acknowledges the reality that, at times, circumstances, health, or age may constrain our capacity to act in the ways we most desire. Yet Francis’s humble admission becomes an invitation: to step forward where we can, and to empathize with the moments when we cannot. In a world beset by division and hardship, this message may be among his most lasting legacies.
Conclusion
As the Catholic Church prepares for the formal rites of mourning and the eventual election of a new pope, the faithful continue to draw lessons from the life—and death—of Pope Francis. His final regret, expressed not in a grand theological treatise but in the colloquial lament of a 88-year-old man who simply wished to wash another’s feet, encapsulates a lifetime devoted to service. It stands as a testament to a pontiff who embodied, in every pastoral letter, homily, and humble gesture, the call to “wash one another’s feet” in word and deed.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
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