Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Preparing for my mother's passing

I've made two visits to New York in the last week. My mother was diagnosed with severe liver disease near the end of the summer and last week was placed into the "Comfort Care" program at her Nursing Home in Montrose, NY. I was able to see her in the middle of last week when she was still conscious and it was wonderful to have her... despite extreme weakness, still be herself. There was a lot of good closure as we reflected on the love she gave and received throughout her life.
By Friday she had lapsed into semi-consciousness and we really thought the end was imminent. But she's still here and it's Wednesday. My family arrived Saturday night to help my dad and sisters with the vigil. She, still, after being moved every two hours opens her eyes and seems to blink in response to our talking to her. Then she glazes over and seems to sleep. We know she's still in there and so we keep talking and knowing she's listening to us. The time becomes even more precious, as difficult as it is.
So I'm back in Maryland for a few days, calling my sisters every couple of hours and finishing the loose ends for the funeral. I'm mostly numb already, with moments of clarity and brief moments of great sadness. I've been blessed, on so many levels and ways, by my mother through my 58 of her 82 years but I'm really going to miss her repeating herself, her indignation, her modesty, the forbidden-ness of cursing around her, and mostly her unconditional love...

Friday, February 4, 2011

An Amazing Pastoral Moment

I paid a visit yesterday to a 93 year old member who is going into hospice today. I've known him for about three years since his son died. He's a really sweet, wonderful soul who despite the death of his first wife, which made him a single parent of two young boys and more recently the premature death of both of his sons, has an amazing, optimistic approach to life. We talked about his last days, things he'd like at his funeral, and then with relatively little prompting spoke about the joys of his life: his family growing up, hard work, his children and especially his wife of now 45 years. It's always amazing but when a life is full and rich (even with the lows) there is sometimes a calm acceptance. This kind man feels his life is complete and is accepting of whatever comes next.
Then the conversation flowed into what he wished had happened differently. He spoke about his sometimes rocky relationships with his own sons, which were fortunately partially healed before their untimely deaths. And then he started to talk about his regret that he wasn't close to his grandchildren; the personalities and experiences which made those family relationships so difficult. In this moment, the doorbell rings and his 40 year old grandson comes into the room. After introductions the conversation continues including the grandson ... both articulate regret, understanding of the realities of the past, and their love for each other. There was not a dry eye in the room.
Many people never find the words to say their sorry, if they had to do it again... they would have tried it another way and that they still truly love. You hear stories of those who are able to heal relationship just before the end. I got to share in one yesterday that has several more weeks of good conversation, precious times together and unconditional love.