I cried at work today three times. Make that four. At one point I thought I was going to have to resort to hiding in the bathroom stall for a moment to sob. Life is hard. Nursing is hard work but there are certain areas that are considered high loss settings and it changes you if you let it. She is 23 and lovely and kind and full of promise and hope and she is dying. The hole left in her parents hearts will not close when she leaves, but their love will grow stronger. She said it wasn't her room. We thought she was confused but after I laid down to think about it...I remembered...it is not her room. She is going to another room. She has already seen the room but we haven't. She knows she is going but doesn't know how to get there or when to go but she is going and she is trying to tell us she is going to a different room. When I worked in hospice, we saw this frequently, this getting ready to move, this leaving. One foot in this world and one in the next and one day they walk through the door and don't return. It is hard but also comforting if you can sit with it an talk about it and learn what the journey is like. I hope they have sock monkeys.
I looked at the pictures of her dead grand baby and heard the raw grief at the bottom of her heart. It is was raw and real. She showed me the pictures over and over. I didn't want to see but I had to. I had to show her he was real to me to. That for his brief moment on earth he was a life of value. She is scattered and looking for lost things in her room. This what the grieving do...look for lost things....hoping to find the one they lost. They wander in a fog and look and can't remember where the things are and then they realized they are lost. And this breaks them. When the lost can not be found. And it broke me today. The baby who didn't have a life but is captured on his grandmother's iPhone and she looks at it everyday while getting chemo. She said, why am I here and he isn't? Why didn't God take me and leave him to grow? I said, I don't know but I think it is important with God to continue the conversation and show the pictures.
And I thought of Abigail, Lily, Seanta, Trey and many names....of children and babies I have watched die....and I cried....
And then at lunch I cried again. I remembered him. He was 8. He died on a Thursday night. I had seen him Thursday afternoon and he was eating a frosty and fries from Wendy's, playing xbox. He loved baseball. He played third base. He loved transformers. He looked good. We talked about baseball and his game. He said he was hungry. We knew he was dying we just didn't know it was then. But he told us too, we just didn't hear. He said, "I am a little afraid to go home, I think I stay here for the weekend." Kids do that. Choose when they will die. He knew. He just wanted to stay in the hospital. He was protecting his mother. His last act of love, like Jesus, was to protect his mother. I will never forget him.
So tonight, all my ghosts come out to visit and remind me how they were loved, how they lived and how they changed me into a better person. It will be a sad night but I have learned to cope with them.
It makes me a better person because I know love trumps, life is to be savored and tasted slow, and every bite is precious and hugs are important. It makes me better because I am not afraid of my own tears or anyone elses. It makes me a better person because I know one day it will be otherwise for me. One day I will be the one.
Showing posts with label Death and Dying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death and Dying. Show all posts
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
I Say Grace
I think of her every year at this time. I think of her at other times during the year too, but especially now when the Bradford pears are blooming, when the weather is warming, when the trees are budding. And this evening I thought of her for a long time. I remember the first day I met her like it was yesterday. It was more about seven years ago to be exact. I often wonder now if she knew how very, very scared I was. I suspect she did. I still wonder if she thought I was an air head. I suspect she did. I wonder if she ever realized how very much she taught me, I suspect she did. I wonder if she really liked my shoes, I suspect she did. For the better part of two years I spent about hour to hour and half, twice a week, on her couch. No, she wasn't my therapist. Not that I didn't or don't need one and truth be told, she probably thought, "this girl can be slightly on the crazy side."
And tonight I thought of her for a long time, and hope she is having a grand time and saving a place for me.
The Daily Office reading today is from the gospel of Mark. Personally, not my favorite read. Not the gospels, just Mark in particular. Mark's Jesus is always in a hurry, warning people to keep their mouths shut and the disciples are portrayed less than favorably and the original text ends with the words, "And they were so afraid." There is a lot of fear running around in Mark. Mark's gospel was her favorite. Her very favorite. I am not sure but I think she had the entire text memorized. She laughed at me when I told her I didn't like Mark. She laughed hard. She said, "you must not fish or like fish sandwiches." She was right on both accounts. Not only did she like to fish, she loved fish sandwiches.
And tonight's text was about walking on water. She told me once, "I just wonder exactly how long he let them struggle against the wind, just how long? Probably all night long. I wonder if he sat right there up on the beach laughing his head off. I wonder if he thought, Hmm..if y'all didn't get the whole feeding miracle thing, is there really any hope that you are going to get walking on water? Probably not." And then she laughed very hard and said, "You know they didn't get it, and not only that, he planned to pass them by till they starting calling ghost busters. And I am thinking that's when he said, "gotcha ya', didn't I?"
I loved that woman. She could make me laugh like no one else. She gave the best hugs I have ever had, ever. She told me not to be scared too...EVER. She was the first hospice patient, I ever introduced myself as "I am going to be your nurse." She was a nurse too. She raised five children. She loved Dewey's cake. She could cook like nobody else. She could sing. And she could pray...man, could she ever pray. I remember one day I was going to see her, and a Bradford pear split in two as I was driving under it. This huge limb fell on my car as I was driving and I kept going. Didn't even stop. I was telling her about it and she said, "Have you ever considered a slower pace? You really don't have to rush all the time. You might get killed. Trees are famous for that you know." Good point.
I will never, ever forget her last two weeks here. She had always met me at the door for every visit, till those last two weeks. I called and she said, "Honey, I am just going to leave the door open and you just come on in and come on back to the bedroom." I knew then it would not be long. I cried the first time and every time after that I had to open the door and she wasn't standing there, waiting to give me a hug. Truth be told, every time I returned to my car to leave, I sobbed over my steering wheel.
She told me not to be afraid. She told never, ever to worry. She told me that forever she would watch over me and "that boy of yours" and that she "would always have my back." (I am not quite sure why she wasn't going to watch over Vance, but that would be another story for another day). She told it was the best thing about dying...She said "now I get to watch over you all and I get to make sure everybody I love is protected. Now I get to be the angel watching and not waiting on the angel to watch me. I get to pray for all of you from the best seat in the house." She said never, ever worry about your life so much that you forget to live. She said never, ever worry about being hurt so much that you forget to love. She said never, ever get so caught up in thinking about yourself that you can not think of anyone else. She said never, ever let anybody steal your joy. She said never, ever get so focused on the what ifs that you can't enjoy the now. She said never, ever be too busy to pray, because you are always going to need it.
She had her home going on the Thursday before Easter. She died just like she lived- at peace, no worry, full of love, full of joy and enjoying that very last bite of fish...enjoying every bite. And I suspect on many, many a day, she sits down and looks at Jesus and just laughs and laughs, and says, "exactly how long do you think she is going to struggle against that wind?"
Grateful for the woman who was the first to teach me to say, "I say Grace."
Kathleen
And tonight I thought of her for a long time, and hope she is having a grand time and saving a place for me.
The Daily Office reading today is from the gospel of Mark. Personally, not my favorite read. Not the gospels, just Mark in particular. Mark's Jesus is always in a hurry, warning people to keep their mouths shut and the disciples are portrayed less than favorably and the original text ends with the words, "And they were so afraid." There is a lot of fear running around in Mark. Mark's gospel was her favorite. Her very favorite. I am not sure but I think she had the entire text memorized. She laughed at me when I told her I didn't like Mark. She laughed hard. She said, "you must not fish or like fish sandwiches." She was right on both accounts. Not only did she like to fish, she loved fish sandwiches.
And tonight's text was about walking on water. She told me once, "I just wonder exactly how long he let them struggle against the wind, just how long? Probably all night long. I wonder if he sat right there up on the beach laughing his head off. I wonder if he thought, Hmm..if y'all didn't get the whole feeding miracle thing, is there really any hope that you are going to get walking on water? Probably not." And then she laughed very hard and said, "You know they didn't get it, and not only that, he planned to pass them by till they starting calling ghost busters. And I am thinking that's when he said, "gotcha ya', didn't I?"
I loved that woman. She could make me laugh like no one else. She gave the best hugs I have ever had, ever. She told me not to be scared too...EVER. She was the first hospice patient, I ever introduced myself as "I am going to be your nurse." She was a nurse too. She raised five children. She loved Dewey's cake. She could cook like nobody else. She could sing. And she could pray...man, could she ever pray. I remember one day I was going to see her, and a Bradford pear split in two as I was driving under it. This huge limb fell on my car as I was driving and I kept going. Didn't even stop. I was telling her about it and she said, "Have you ever considered a slower pace? You really don't have to rush all the time. You might get killed. Trees are famous for that you know." Good point.
I will never, ever forget her last two weeks here. She had always met me at the door for every visit, till those last two weeks. I called and she said, "Honey, I am just going to leave the door open and you just come on in and come on back to the bedroom." I knew then it would not be long. I cried the first time and every time after that I had to open the door and she wasn't standing there, waiting to give me a hug. Truth be told, every time I returned to my car to leave, I sobbed over my steering wheel.
She told me not to be afraid. She told never, ever to worry. She told me that forever she would watch over me and "that boy of yours" and that she "would always have my back." (I am not quite sure why she wasn't going to watch over Vance, but that would be another story for another day). She told it was the best thing about dying...She said "now I get to watch over you all and I get to make sure everybody I love is protected. Now I get to be the angel watching and not waiting on the angel to watch me. I get to pray for all of you from the best seat in the house." She said never, ever worry about your life so much that you forget to live. She said never, ever worry about being hurt so much that you forget to love. She said never, ever get so caught up in thinking about yourself that you can not think of anyone else. She said never, ever let anybody steal your joy. She said never, ever get so focused on the what ifs that you can't enjoy the now. She said never, ever be too busy to pray, because you are always going to need it.
She had her home going on the Thursday before Easter. She died just like she lived- at peace, no worry, full of love, full of joy and enjoying that very last bite of fish...enjoying every bite. And I suspect on many, many a day, she sits down and looks at Jesus and just laughs and laughs, and says, "exactly how long do you think she is going to struggle against that wind?"
Grateful for the woman who was the first to teach me to say, "I say Grace."
Kathleen
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The Man in the Mirror
I have a palliative care nurse friend who I love, deeply respect and miss not seeing everyday. She and I used to talk about why working with the dying was so important to us. It is the stories. I miss hospice nursing, it was the best work I ever did. I miss my hospice nurse friends. They are some of the most remarkable people I know. I miss the patients and their families. THEY are the MOST REMARKABLE people I know and raise courage to another level.
My friend and I loved to share stories. Some made us very sad. Some gave us pause. And some just made us laugh. Dying is a natural part of live. It is the greatest adventure you ever take. God is asking you to trust Him completely and fall into his arms even when you aren't sure they are there. They are. They are. Our bodies die but our souls do not. Death can not steal our souls. Death can not steal love. Love is eternal and is in our hearts forever. Love never stops at death. Never. Hope begins at death. It is at death's door we begin to see another place to go...a good place...a safe place...a place without pain and suffering and war and evil....We glimpse that place when we journey with our loved ones through death.
Her name was Mary. I loved me some Mary. I loved me some Mary. She had a brain tumor. She lived alone. She had a wicked sense of humor and a very grounded spirituality. I was visiting her one day and asked her how things were going. She said "fine, except for that man in the mirror." She was taking high dose decadron and beginning to hallucinate a little so I wasn't concerned, especially since she seemed to recognize the man in the mirror. I asked her who the man in the mirror was. She said without batting an eye, "Jesus- he shows up every time I go in there." Now being the very therapeutic nurse that I am, I asked "So how do you feel about that?" Without batting an eye she said, "It scares the hell out of me. What do you think? How would you like Jesus staring at you all night long?" Here's where I burst out laughing. Mary said "it is not funny!" I told her I was sorry, it was just the way she said it. I asked her if I could cover the mirror up. She said no, "He might forget who I am." Good point. I asked, "Do you talk to him?" She said, "Hell, yes. I tell him he is scaring me and unless he is coming tonight to limit his visits to daylight hours and only at 11 am after I have had my coffee." OK, I was bent over double laughing now. Mary asked "'what is so blame funny?" "Oh Mary, oh Mary," I said. "I love it you being completely real with Jesus and he should wait to visit after morning coffee 'cause we know what a grouch you are." Mary said, "Damn straight." Then she said, "But I am scared. I am scared." I said, "What about?" She said "the dying doesn't bother me, it is where I am going." Just had to try my therapeutic technique one more time and I asked, "Mary are you afraid your going to hell?" She said, "Hell no I ain't afraid of hell. I been in hell for the last 6 months with my cancer. I figure I am moving up. Also Jesus and I got a real understanding. He understands my grouchy side and I understand his surprise side. You see I am just afraid that something I really like here might not be in heaven and what if I don't recognize no one? or I don't like my house or something." "Honey, I think that all works out. I really do." She said, "Well, I ain't singing in no choir."
She declined very quickly after our talk. Which is common. She was finishing up some business. She wanted me to understand what dying really was like and that she really did see Jesus. She died about 5 days later in her home with the mirror looking straight at her. She saw Jesus right up to the end. I never did. But I tried. I could feel an unusual peace though. And the one thing I regret...I never asked her what Jesus looked like. As many people who have told me they see Jesus, I have never asked.
Because I think Jesus comes to us as we are...
If you are coffee drinking, late sleeper...He shows up about 11 am with a cup of Starbucks to share.
If you are an early riser and a pacer...He paces with you.
If you are a kid and just love stories...He comes gets up in bed with you and tells a story.
If you are rocking in your chair sipping tea, He is in the next rocker...
If you are standing outside looking at the sunrise...well He loves sunrises....
If you sing in the shower...He is singing right along with you...
And if you can't stand, walk or move or even open your eyes, he comes in very, very quiet like and blows his breath over you so you can feel His peace...
How do I know these things...Well I have been there and people have described it to me while it was happening...I know He comes...I have seen too many times not to know that He always show up to lead his sheep home to the Father... He always comes back for the one. It is the one that Jesus loves. And you know what...
WE ARE ALL THE ONE
He comes back for each of us just as we are and carries us home.
Be reminded and hopeful and joyful my friends that when you see endings coming...look for new beginnings...look for Jesus in the mirror...look for Jesus in the sunrise..look for Jesus to be right next to you...holding your hand walking you through the next, best part...being with Him and the Father....
Lent is for Life,
Kathleen
My friend and I loved to share stories. Some made us very sad. Some gave us pause. And some just made us laugh. Dying is a natural part of live. It is the greatest adventure you ever take. God is asking you to trust Him completely and fall into his arms even when you aren't sure they are there. They are. They are. Our bodies die but our souls do not. Death can not steal our souls. Death can not steal love. Love is eternal and is in our hearts forever. Love never stops at death. Never. Hope begins at death. It is at death's door we begin to see another place to go...a good place...a safe place...a place without pain and suffering and war and evil....We glimpse that place when we journey with our loved ones through death.
Her name was Mary. I loved me some Mary. I loved me some Mary. She had a brain tumor. She lived alone. She had a wicked sense of humor and a very grounded spirituality. I was visiting her one day and asked her how things were going. She said "fine, except for that man in the mirror." She was taking high dose decadron and beginning to hallucinate a little so I wasn't concerned, especially since she seemed to recognize the man in the mirror. I asked her who the man in the mirror was. She said without batting an eye, "Jesus- he shows up every time I go in there." Now being the very therapeutic nurse that I am, I asked "So how do you feel about that?" Without batting an eye she said, "It scares the hell out of me. What do you think? How would you like Jesus staring at you all night long?" Here's where I burst out laughing. Mary said "it is not funny!" I told her I was sorry, it was just the way she said it. I asked her if I could cover the mirror up. She said no, "He might forget who I am." Good point. I asked, "Do you talk to him?" She said, "Hell, yes. I tell him he is scaring me and unless he is coming tonight to limit his visits to daylight hours and only at 11 am after I have had my coffee." OK, I was bent over double laughing now. Mary asked "'what is so blame funny?" "Oh Mary, oh Mary," I said. "I love it you being completely real with Jesus and he should wait to visit after morning coffee 'cause we know what a grouch you are." Mary said, "Damn straight." Then she said, "But I am scared. I am scared." I said, "What about?" She said "the dying doesn't bother me, it is where I am going." Just had to try my therapeutic technique one more time and I asked, "Mary are you afraid your going to hell?" She said, "Hell no I ain't afraid of hell. I been in hell for the last 6 months with my cancer. I figure I am moving up. Also Jesus and I got a real understanding. He understands my grouchy side and I understand his surprise side. You see I am just afraid that something I really like here might not be in heaven and what if I don't recognize no one? or I don't like my house or something." "Honey, I think that all works out. I really do." She said, "Well, I ain't singing in no choir."
She declined very quickly after our talk. Which is common. She was finishing up some business. She wanted me to understand what dying really was like and that she really did see Jesus. She died about 5 days later in her home with the mirror looking straight at her. She saw Jesus right up to the end. I never did. But I tried. I could feel an unusual peace though. And the one thing I regret...I never asked her what Jesus looked like. As many people who have told me they see Jesus, I have never asked.
Because I think Jesus comes to us as we are...
If you are coffee drinking, late sleeper...He shows up about 11 am with a cup of Starbucks to share.
If you are an early riser and a pacer...He paces with you.
If you are a kid and just love stories...He comes gets up in bed with you and tells a story.
If you are rocking in your chair sipping tea, He is in the next rocker...
If you are standing outside looking at the sunrise...well He loves sunrises....
If you sing in the shower...He is singing right along with you...
And if you can't stand, walk or move or even open your eyes, he comes in very, very quiet like and blows his breath over you so you can feel His peace...
How do I know these things...Well I have been there and people have described it to me while it was happening...I know He comes...I have seen too many times not to know that He always show up to lead his sheep home to the Father... He always comes back for the one. It is the one that Jesus loves. And you know what...
WE ARE ALL THE ONE
He comes back for each of us just as we are and carries us home.
Be reminded and hopeful and joyful my friends that when you see endings coming...look for new beginnings...look for Jesus in the mirror...look for Jesus in the sunrise..look for Jesus to be right next to you...holding your hand walking you through the next, best part...being with Him and the Father....
Lent is for Life,
Kathleen
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