"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."
- C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
I’ve been trying to write this week. ‘Trying’ would be the operative word.
Somehow putting finger to keyboard seems,
well, it seems a little trite in the aftermath of life changing events in my
family.
The
giving…
Yeah, I know the words…God knows I have
spoken them hundreds of times in attempts at consolation. They go a little like this:
“I
am so sorry to hear of the death of _______. I know how meaningful they were in
your life. Whatever suffering they were
in, they now have been released. Realizing
this is the process of life doesn’t fill the hole in one’s heart…the void that
seems so empty at the moment. You and
your family are in my thoughts and prayers…”
These words or iterations of them have
always been heart felt when they were spoken or written…when they were on the
giving end…when they were the only tools available to express the sense of
community and appreciation for the common journey upon which every living
creature embarks and departs.
Indeed, I have no doubt this life
transitions to another place of continued intelligent growth…that she is
cradled in the Hand of God. From a child
I had this teaching, the alphabet of faith.
It has matured to a life experience of ‘knowing’ its truth…yet, the
departure tears the fabric nonetheless.
The
taking…
When one is on the receiving end of these
words and expressions of love and care, however, it is harder to find a place
to put them. It’s not that they are not
appreciated…for in fact they surely are.
There is so much going on in the abruptness and ending of a life that it
all mashes together, and like a hard falling rain on a summer’s evening,
doesn’t always get absorbed.
One would expect the earth of one’s soul to
be tender at a time like this…to be able to take the words and feelings from
friends and loved ones, like the soft and gentle rain on fertile soil…fully
absorbed…sinking to a place of gentle comfort.
Instead there is a numbness that holds court, hanging on to the scepter
with an unrelenting grip. In some respects
the sense of aloneness in the maddening crowd is almost overwhelming.
Then something happens that is equally
unexpected…or at least in my case something happened that broke the bonds of
self-absorption of my loss.
A
village no doubt…
As my sister began to enter the house of
horrors in her life, she became more and more isolated. At first, after her retirement, she would go
out to lunch or for coffee if someone asked, but those times were few and as
time passed stopped happening.
More and more she withdrew into her home – a
metaphor for the withdrawal into confines of her mind. Her retreat became so contained, over the
days and weeks and months that she spent most of her time in her bedroom where
she slept or watched television, and the kitchen where she ate.
Before she moved into assisted living a
little less than a year ago, there were three day-to-day constants in her
life.
Riley…what
more could be said?
The greatest of these was Riley her
dog. The expression a “…dog is man’s
best friend…” pales to the reality of Riley’s companionship. There is little doubt, this loving and ALWAYS
enthusiastic animal provided a lifeline of consistency to which my sister
clung…always there…always attentive...always loving.
The
health-care provider…
A second constant was Sue. Sue – the healthcare provider hired to make
sure Nancy got her meals, took her medicine, attended to her personal
hygiene. You know the kind of people you
pay to take family responsibility when the family is far flung as we were. No amount of persuasion could get Nancy to
come to California (with us) or Virginia (with our other sister). Jefferson City is where she was going to
stay…Sue became our daytime surrogate.
This was a business deal…you know…pay the
company…they pay Sue…just business. The
problem, of course, is that humanity is not business. Business is how we live, it is NOT who we
are…and so it was with Sue. This woman
became a part of our family. Like the
postman – as borrowed from the Greek historian Herodotus (“Neither snow, or rain, nor heat, nor gloom
of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their
appointed rounds.”) – Sue was ALWAYS there…an unsung
heroine.
Sue came to deeply love her charge. As had been Nancy’s gift, even in her most
desperate moments, she had captured yet another soul as she had almost everyone she had met.
The
neighbors…
It is hard to know what happens when a
person’s mind begins to unravel and slip away.
It’s hard to know what they are thinking in a world of diminishing
returns. It’s hard to know what drives
their behavior.
Somehow through the blinding snowstorm in
the winter’s evening of Nancy’s mind, Karen and Ed were the third anchor in my
sister’s life. They were her neighbors
across the street, and she would visit them, sometimes several times a day with
some problem, or paranoia or fear…seeking comfort in some way. Without exception they met her with love and
care that defied my understanding. When
alarmed about something in particular, they would call.
In my frequent trips to Missouri, I found
myself apologizing for my sister’s unbridled visits to their home. I was embarrassed that these kind people were
so put upon. They always told me, for I
frequently brought the subject up, Nancy was not a big problem…for the life of
me I thought they were just being polite.
The
note…
Then came the epiphany…a sense of clarity
from without that reminded me that we, as human beings, are truly a
family. It would be self-serving to say
I came to this on my own. In my sorrow, I
needed help to recognize how truly meaningful and loving and helpful and caring
people genuinely are and want to be.
I had been apologizing to Karen and Ed for
my sister’s behavior like some parent to the school principal…and then…and then
this arrived from Karen this morning…for my sister Nancy…in reality for me…to
open my eyes and my heart.
Thank you Nancy
Has it only been a week
since we celebrated your life with a gathering of family, friends, and
acquaintances?
I didn't say this
then. Sometimes it takes a little distance before we realize the journey.
Though you and I weren't
lifelong friends you gave me life-long memories and learned lessons.
Your need filled my need
to help.
You gave so much.
You encouraged others to help others always.
Nancy, your life expressed
the reality that anything is possible when we help each other.
Through you I met examples
of strength, love, and devotion…
I believe in the
adage, “It is better to give than to receive.”
I have tried to follow that teaching, because it has brought both
satisfaction and meaning to my life. On
the other hand, one cannot give if there is not one who receives. Receiving, for me, has been a more
challenging task. My sister’s loving
neighbor reminded me with these simple heartfelt words, how important and
healing it is to be as able to receive.
To all those who
have reached out to share my sorrow…touched my life and those of my family…all
of your words have found a place in the fertile ground of my mind, seeping
deeply into my heart…
- ted
