A turning of the page...

“For this corruptible must put on incorruption,

and this mortal must put on immortality.  So when this

corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal

shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the

saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.”

1 Corinthians 15:53, 54 - Bible

Her head was tilted back and to the right…eyes closed….mouth agape.

Breath in…breath out…breath in…breath out...

The breaths were shallow and while coming fairly regularly, they were clearly not normal.  It was a hollow almost mechanical sound; a sound that if it were dark and one were alone, it might be unnerving…indeed it ‘was’ unnerving.

Her first breath, as for all of us, had been a deep gasp – from darkness to light…fighting for a new life…a birth…an open check book…a tabula rasa – everything in front of her…pages to be turned…experiences yet to find their way to the novel that would become her life…all in front her of her with nothing but blue sky!

It is not that way for these breaths – breath in….breath out….breath in….breath out.  No, these breaths were increasingly shallower by the smallest of increments and they signaled the other end of the journey…the ‘end’ of the journey...

Back to Missouri…

It was getting to be the end of the whale watching season and I had a friend visiting from the East.  I thought a mid-morning kayaking adventure might be fun.  The tour had been planned for several weeks, and after missing the whales the last time out, there was hope of success this time.  The day before a Grey Whale had breached a couple of miles from shore…would it happen again? 

The phone was in the car…the calls came, but there was no one to answer.  When we finished the ‘whale-less’ watching event, we headed back to the shop, changed from wet suits to our street clothes and headed for the car…the car and my phone. 

There were six text messages and three calls on the ‘you missed me’ list.  It was pretty clear something was terribly wrong.  Dark thunderclouds were gathering on the horizon of that sunny Southern California sky.

Nancy had aspirated some liquid.  This led to a compromise in her breathing a reduction in her blood oxygen levels…not a good sign.  Rushed to the hospital, she was stabilized, but it was clear the end was near.  She had ‘do not resuscitate’ wishes, as do all in our family…not wanting extraordinary medical interventions taking place when the quality of our lives no longer had meaning.

“When can you be here?”

The question was both matter of fact and urgent.  Mariah related the doctor’s opinion that her mother might not last the night.  It was all happening too fast…fast, but with clarity.  “I’ll be out first thing in the morning, in St. Louis by 5:30 and the hospital by 8PM,” I replied.  “She might not make it.”  Mariah said, but it was the best that could be done.

I called my other sister in Virginia, made flight reservations, ate a quiet dinner and headed for bed.  Of little doubt, the next day would be long.  Anne met me in St. Louis and we made the, by now all too familiar, drive together to Columbia.

It was not good…

We arrived to a varied group of people both at the door and in the room my sister occupied.  A number of Mariah’s classmates had set vigil with her, as well as folk from Nancy’s former church – some older and some that had grown up around her from childhood.  She had a way with children…she had a way with everyone!

Anne asked to spend a few minutes of private time with Nancy. When she was finished, I slipped in to hold her in my arms, to thank her for the life she had given to me, to say how proud I was to have been her brother, and wondered out loud if the decisions I had made had been the best…I asked forgiveness if they had not.

After most of the folk left, Mariah, Anne and I were alone in the room with Nancy.  We chatted quietly as Mariah gently put eye drops into her mother’s eyes, some moisturizer around her nose, and softly swabbed her mouth…all the while kissing her, speaking to her, touching her, stroking her and ministering in the holiest of ways known only to a daughter and best friend.  We talked to Nancy letting her know it was okay to let go…it was time…it was right…it was safe. 

Mariah had been up for three days, by now and needed some sleep.  Before tucking into a chair across the hall for a few hours, she slipped into bed with her mother and snuggled close as they had done so often in their lives.  Her head resting on Nancy’s shoulder and hand on her chest…the tenderness of this act exquisite.

The breathing more ragged now...…breath in……breath out……breath in…….breath out……

Anne and I stayed up...kept the watch – she reclined on a chair by the bed and I sat in front of my keyboard trying to understand the fearfulness and serenity of the moment.  I was watching my sister die, and in the most ironic of ways…in ways words fail to express…it was the most loving and intimate experience I ever had with her. 

Breath in…………breath out…………breath in............breath out...........

She slipped quietly away from us this afternoon, and I was reminded of these words, “…into thy hands I commend my spirit…”

Breath out………..

- ted