Blog Post #14
My friend is dying.
She is, at this very moment, in a palliative care ward, in a hospital, slowly leaving this world. She is surrounded by her loving family — husband, son, daughter, her parents, her siblings, her closest friends. They take turns sitting with her, speaking to her in reassuring tones, trying to ease her distress.
She is close to the end. Her “selfness” is fading. She is in distress — she senses something is very wrong, but she cannot discern what that wrongness is.
She is dying and those beside her and those of us who are holding her in our hearts, are waiting. Waiting for our dear one to be freed from pain and suffering. Waiting for her to find a blissful peace in the sweet release of death.
She was diagnosed with terminal cancer nearly three years ago. Then came chemotherapy, drug combos, and endless appointments, tests, more doctor visits and tears — a lot of tears.
She lived her life. She created things — artsy/crafty things. She had coffee and lunches with her friends. She celebrated her 50th birthday. She traveled with her husband and her family — trips to various points in Canada, mini vacations exploring the country — Quebec, Alaska, Haida Gwaii — enjoying it all, having fun. Living.
She came to bookclub. She shared with us, her experiences with the Disease. The changes her body was going through, her fears and her hopes. She told funny stories about it all — sometimes darkly humorous, but we all laughed — because they were funny. She helped us through the shock of her diagnosis, the curiosity of the medical protocols and procedures. She helped us come around to the realization that the truth was — she was dying.
We were there for her — we listened, we brought food to her house, we visited. We held her in our hearts and our arms. We laughed and were joyful. We grieved with her and for her. We cried with her and for her. We were thankful for every moment.
Now we are waiting. She has been in the hospital for six days now. Death will not be rushed. But we are praying for Death to come easy — to come swiftly — to come peacefully.
We are praying for Death to come.
We love you, Trish…
If I Should Go
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I’m gone speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves that I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So sing as well.
– Joyce Grenfell (1910-1979)
Brynne’s Daily Drawing #14