Dying is such an active thing. So difficult. Amy decided on Wednesday to go on hospice. She was done fighting. And the following Wednesday was the last time she spoke. "Shit!" was the last thing I heard her say that morning, tired of being told what to do. By the afternoon I was pretty sure she wouldn't last the night. The early hours of the morning are a natural time for death. An ebb tide of life, perhaps? A thinning of the veil... Thank goodness her last breaths did not drag out for hours. One long pause, two more breaths, no more. Her face was so peaceful. No sign of struggle or pain.
Seeing her whole family rallied around her all night, holding her hand, stroking her forehead, bathing away her fever, stretching out next to her in her bed - paintings and sculptures should be made of such moments.
I wouldn't trade those moments for anything.
I'm doing Ok, most of the time, until I'm not. It's unpredictable. It's everyone else I'm worried about. We'll just have to take it day by day. We're in uncharted seas. Luckily, they have an excellent pastor/friend to help them through it, and other resources as well. We may not have done this before, but it isn't the first time anyone has lost a loved one. We'll be alright. Together.
7 comments:
I am very, very, very sorry about your sister.
My mother died of cancer when I was a teenager so I can empathize with all that you and your family are going through. I am so very sorry for all of you, for you, your niece....your sister who is gone too soon. I wish there was more that I, or anyone, could do.
I am very sorry for your loss.
Thank you. She was pretty amazing!
I can't imagine... Her son, the youngest (16), is the one I worry about the most. He was always so attached to her, like an extra appendage. His dad will try to take her place now, but it's not the same. Both of the men are taking it hardest, I think. I'm glad they have each other.
It's not the first time anyone has lost a loved one, but I think it's completely unique for everyone.
Poor woman-child
nursing her mom
to death in the darkness
while everyone caught
a few moments sleep
only the sound
of the rhythmic death rattle
and the oxygen condenser
Dying is such an active thing
Forgive me for seeing a poem in your lines. Someone posed a question to me recently in poem. It was this:
Do you ever miss yourself,
The person you were before
you had your first heartbreak?
My answer was this:
"I don’t miss her. That person didn’t understand how beautiful the journey can be with heartache intertwined."
As I read your post, I thought of the poetry shining through, and your desire to be there for those you see as weaker--or more in need--and I was struck with how you're already taking something very sad and growing from it something of beauty without even trying. That is one way to keep your sister strong in this world.
May she rest in peace, but her memory be kept strong and alive in you and the family--and I hope that it brings you much, much happiness when you think back on her.
It is beautiful, and I told her so. She gets to go see what's next. What an adventure! We'll see her soon.
I'm sorry that your family is going through this right now. You'll all be in my prayers. <3
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