Neil is dying, and his dying is hard, long work. I'm spending a lot of time with him and Helen (his wife) these days, and I can tell you that there's nothing romantic about death. Death sucks, and I hate it. Why are these last days of his journey so difficult? Why all the pain, the suffering brought on by being unable to get enough air? And why now? He's only 67, and will leave behind a wife and children who will miss him beyond the ability of words to express.
That's the dark side of it all. There are also glimpses of something else, sparks scattered throughout this long wandering through the valley of the shadow of death. Moments of laughter in the hospital room. Neil's smile when his grandchildren come to see him. Neil and Helen's love for each other and the moments of sheer alive-ness in this valley when they make that love known. Perhaps most of all, I have watched as Neil grows in a peace that passes understanding, and a joy and a hope that defies death. That peace and hope is often clouded now by a fog of morphine and pain, but there it still is.
John Muir once said something like this: "We look at life from the back side of the tapestry. And most of the time what we see is loose threads, tangled knots and the like. But occasionally God's light shines through the tapestry and we get a glimpse of the larger design with God weaving together the darks and lights of existence."
Yes. The tangled knots and loose threads that make up so much of our lives, we all of us, but also glimpses of light.
Shalom,
David
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3 comments:
it is hard to sit with the dying, and the family of the dying. Thank God that Neil has such peace and faith that gives meaning to the process instead of just loss.
Written by one who has sat with the dying as well.
I love you.
Yes, I thought of you when I wrote this. I know you know what this is like. I'd want to have a nurse like you...
I am always impressed with the glimpses of something precious (almost like a birth) while journeying with someone through the valley. I'm not even sure what I should call it, but there is in the midst of all the pain and ugliness, also the promise of something more -- something we can't even begin to comprehend.
But my heart goes out to the family -- there is no denying the pain of parting. Love MOM
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