- We need to be taught how to die
- Dying in your sleep without pain or the realization that you are dying is not a blessing
- Depending on a faith community of friends and family to walk with you through the process is a blessing (even if it means "being a burden")
- "It is a gift to live into your dying"
- Presence and prayer bring comfort and help alleviate fear.
- To learn how to die we must see someone die well.
- In The Book of Common Prayer in the Great Litany, there’s the prayer, “save me from all oppression, conspiracy, and rebellion; from violence, battle, and murder; and from dying suddenly and unprepared.” In the Middle Ages, what people feared was not death, they feared God. They prayed to be saved from a sudden death because they wanted to have time to repent and have their lives appropriately positioned to face God. Now we just fear death.
- "Friendship with God is the good that should form both how we live and how we die. When we learn how to be friends with God we learn something about what it means to die well."
Momma told me, and everyone around her. that she would never ever be a burden to anyone and also said," I'll go out behind the barn and shoot myself before I will be a burden."!
Thankfully, we didn't have a barn when Mother began to have declining health!
My Momma was a very strong and independent woman never wanting to owe anyone anything. (She didn't mind other people owing her though)
She was a self made woman, owning numerous businesses. Her last business was a diner/tea room with her sister, when she was 80!
Momma had a series of illnesses and complications plus the fact that she was legally blind. But she still wanted to drive, so I would take her to Wal-Mart so she could drive the motorized shopping carts!
Momma began having hallucinations (visions as she called them) and major paranoid phobias.
After numerous hospitalizations a decision had to be made, nursing home or our house. Momma accepted our house. Remember, this is the woman that didn't want to be a burden to anyone and now she is finding herself in a place of dependence on me, Hartley and our children. This was a big dose of pride she had to swallow!
We added a toilet and sink in our little spare bedroom,brought in a twin bed in place of the double bed and wallah Momma's space was ready before she got out of the hospital.
Hartley and I took turns with a paid caregiver during the day and it worked out well.
Momma took a sharp turn for the worse, about a month after she moved in with us, so back to the hospital (don't get me started on that). After 10 days of staying with her day and night so she got the proper care I asked a doctor directly "Is my Mother dying?" He hesitantly replied, "yes." He said it was a "failure to thrive". My reaction was,"why the hell are we still here, call hospice! I am taking her home!"
Hospice beat us to the house! The hospital bed was in place and a nurse was ready to teach Hartley and I how to take care of Momma's physical and medical needs.
Before Anna, our hospice nurse, left I began to cry. "I can't do this! I can't do this!" It was like going home from the hospital with your first baby, there wasn't a manual for this. Anna hugged me and said she was just a phone call away and yes, you can do this.
I think this is when the above "bullet points" kicked in.
I stayed by Momma's side most of the day and all of the night. I sang to her, read to her and constantly held her hand. One time she squeezed my hand and said "enough singing"! Another time my brother, Coy, and Hartley were turning her for a suppository when she perked up and said, "I'm gonna poot on you". They both died laughing! I must say, Hartley was Momma's Prince! He did all the lifting, shots. suppositories, and clean up. (especially when my gag reflexes were working overtime) He was my hero through it all as well!
We continued having our regular weekly "life group" meetings and everyone would go in and pray for her or just touch her hand. When it was time for "communion" to be taken, someone from the group would go in and serve Momma. The last morsel of food she took in was "the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ".
Most of Momma's friends and all of her family had made it in to see her. Leaving her with a blessing and taking a blessing back with them.
Time was coming to an end, as we know it, for Momma. We called in our children and community of faith to pray the prayer service for the dying from The Book of Common Prayer. There were about 20 of us there including momma's sister and 2 nieces. It was truly a glorious moment, the Spirit of God was so beautifully evident in that sacred space. After the prayer service everyone filed out after leaving momma with a kiss or a touch, to a meal we had prepared for them. We spent the evening telling stories while we ate, laughed and cried.
The house, now empty and quiet, as I sat with momma a few more days until she took her final breath and made the journey to her heavenly home.
I feel like momma died perfectly. And it made such an impact on so many people, young and old, that participated in her death journey.
It was 7 years, June 18th, that momma died but I remember it like yesterday. Often when I receive communion I remember for her it was the last taste she experienced before meeting "The One" face to face that had provided that sacrament for her.
Momma's death journey obviously is not the only way to die, but when it is possible, try to allow your loved ones to be a burden on you. It is truly a life changing event, that will live with you until it's your time to be a "blessed burden".
We do not know how or when a friend or a loved one will make the journey of death, so let's try to love them really well so we don't have any regrets when that time arrives.
Peace, till we visit again! Remember life's full of wonderful adventures awaiting and death happens to be one of them.
I want to take this space to say thank you to Dr. Stanley Hauerwas for all he taught Hartley and vicariously taught me. Thank you Dr. Hauerwas!
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