Good-bye

The Power and Comfort in Good-Bye

News From a Friend

EmailAn email arrived in my mailbox from a dear friend. Titled “Moms last night at home”, it contained little more than a link to a video. Clicking the link, I watched as my friend of 42 years shared a touching moment. Three women, a mother, and her two daughters shared their last night together in the home she had been born in. Tucking in for the night, one each on the sofa, a recliner, and a hospital bed, they were sweetly celebrating their love for one another, their connection, and an ending. I was deeply moved at their care and attention to the process of this particular ‘good-bye’.

When I spoke to my friend the next day, she shared the significant medical changes in her mom’s condition and their decision to transition into hospice care for the final weeks of her life. This decision would support her more comfortably. She was not in pain, but uncomfortable and finding it difficult to manage in her home. She was not going to pursue chemotherapy to halt the progression of the tumor and was ready to go ‘home to Jesus’. When our discussion was over I hung up the phone deep in thought.

Reflecting on the Relationship

These are some of the strongest women I have known during my life. They have had significantly more than a usual dose of challenge and adversity. They have navigated struggles and difficulties from a place of absolute Christian faith, endurance, quiet power, and purpose. One had fought and survived a fierce battle with rare cancer the year before, the other had made a conscious decision that the battles were over and it was time to let go of form. This strong group of survivors had been very important to me.

FriendsWhen this family entered my life, I was just 12 and it was the beginning of one of the most chaotic, vulnerable, unprotected, and wounding times of my life. Their presence provided a compass and an anchor, which served to navigate me through the next decade. None of us knew it at the time, least of all me, but they created a place to pivot from my own family’s history.

This woman and her family were signposts for my opening to spirit and wholeness. While my spirituality has moved in a very different direction from theirs over the decades, they were the bottle openers for spiritual champagne.

How to Say “Good Bye”

I spent the next couple of days contemplating the power, finality, and bravery of “good-bye”.

A mindful “Goodbye” at the end of life is powerful stuff. It is putting a voice to an end without pretense. There are reality and acceptance in knowing that, ‘This life will end soon and we will not see each other again…at least in this form.’ It is a period.

It is the last period,

of the last sentence

in the last paragraph of

the last chapter of a book.

It is the last thing we get before the words, The End.

How did I want to hold this period? What did I need for a sense of completion? What was the right way for me to say “Good-bye”?  What did I really want to say?  How was I going to say it?

I could certainly write a card. That would be enough for her. But, not for me. I needed….something …that connected me to this. I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to look in her eyes and tell her that she had raised an amazing daughter, one who had been one of the most important friends in my life. I wanted to say that through her family my life was uplifted when it mattered most. I wanted her to know that I would continue to pray for her while she was making a transition from form life.

Being Present

I decided to use frequent flyer miles for a cross-country flight to Boston. A one-night, quick trip for a couple of hours with her. She didn’t need me to be there, or to say anything. She would be okay without my presence. I needed it. This was for me.

When I arrived, she was sleeping deeply. She had had a difficult night and was awake until early morning. She had been a bit anxious. She had been very hungry and had asked for food several times. I stood in silence and watched her for a little bit as she slept deeply. The nurse in me observed quietly, analytically. She looked thin. She breathed comfortably and regularly. Every now and again she twitched somewhere beneath the fleece blanket covering her. I recognized that this was one from home, made lovingly by her daughter. She seemed so quiet, so comfortable.

I sat on a sofa with a pattern of entwined circles and crosses outside her room. I meditated, intending to connect with her and be fully present. I read some poetry. Talked to the Haitian nursing aides who worked there. Made myself a cup of tea.

The Visit

PrayersAbout an hour later the pastor walked by me into the room. After a minute or two I moved closer to the door and heard the soft whispering of prayer and blessing. She was awake. When I walked into the room he stood huddled quietly by her bent in prayer and holding her hands as he spoke. Her eyes were still closed, so I wasn’t sure that she was even awake. When the prayer was done, she opened her eyes and saw me. She was so happy to see me – smiling widely. She reached out her hand and called me closer, introduced me to the pastor.

After he left, we were alone to talk for a bit. She told me she was comfortable, commented on how much she was sleeping and that the staff was very good to her. When she complained about the food I giggled a little inside, food holds such an important place for us, even through our endings, doesn’t it?

The last time I saw her we were immersed in life-saving cancer treatment for her daughter. So that was the focus of the visit. This time I shared pictures of my daughter’s engagement and planning for her wedding. I shared my son’s commissioning in the Army as a 2nd Lt.  We were focused on the present.

I asked her if she is afraid?  “No,” she said. “Sometimes I get a bit….”. Her response trailed off. I waited patiently, but she didn’t complete the sentence. I filled the blanks in for myself: anxious, excited, curious, uncertain?

What Happens When We Die?

I wondered what she thinks about her crossing. She describes it as going home to Jesus. I wonder if she is right. Will he really be waiting? Is it that simple, that specific?

Or, would it be more how I hold it? That, through death, we are freed from the restriction of our bodily form and are able to fully experience unity and oneness. Our consciousness, like salt dissolving in water, becomes part of the oneness, a collective [Christ] consciousness, which our human awareness can’t currently hold. Does some part of individual consciousness remain as separate and individual?

Through the veilWhatever the reality is on the other side of the veil, I hope it doesn’t disappoint this woman of tremendous faith and love for Jesus. I recall the short story by Katherine Ann Porter, The Jilting of Granny Weatherall where the bride was left waiting at the altar. For her sake, I pray she is right and that Jesus will be there waiting for her. She will be keeping that her secret, though.

Her 93-year old sister Hazel arrived with another friend for a visit. She seemed alive, vital, and vivacious, especially in contrast to her younger sister.  We sat on the sofa outside of the room while the nurses were in the room. She shared how much she loved her sister. They had had 90 years of connection. She didn’t see her more than once a week, but they talked on the phone 2-3 times a day.

At one point she became tearful, “What will I do without her”, she asked. What do you do without someone who has provided love, connection, and history for 90 years? There was no answer. I couldn’t even fathom. All I could do was connect my heart with my eyes and look into hers. The question hung there, promising an answer.

After visiting with the ladies for another hour – talking about friendships, the past, our favorite food channel shows, needlework, it was time for the final goodbye.

A Last Good-bye

I knelt on the floor next to her chair and held her hand. I looked in her eyes and said, “I won’t see you again”. She said, “I know” and she gave my hand a little pat. I said, “I love you. Thank you for Dawn (her daughter), she has been my longest friend and I love her. You, her, and your family have made a difference in my life because of who you are.” I heard her sister weep softly behind me. “I will always be there for Dawn when she needs me”.

We kissed, and she said, “I will pray for you”.

“Thank you”, I said, “…and I will pray for you”. I kissed her on the forehead and hugged and said ‘Goodbye’ to everyone there and walked away toward my car.

I don’t have any more answers about death and final good-byes than when I arrived. I do feel complete, though, in this one relationship. I am so glad that I was able to say my own final good-bye.

Good ByeThe Tree of Life

I received a note in the mail a few days later. Written on a laser-cut card with shaky writing it simply said:

Therese, I love you so much. Thank you, thank you for everything. God bless. See you in heaven!

Love,

Marge

Peace, Love, and Safe Travels to you, Marge!