George Washington on His Deathbed by Junius Steams
Pamela Skjolsvik calls herself The Death Writer. At her blog, she explores issues of life, death, and mourning. When she found out I had recently been a Hospice volunteer, she asked to interview me about what it’s like to help people die.
Today, I’m directing you to that interview.
Working with Death Wednesday: Hospice
This interview is actually very timely for me. This week has brought news of not one, but three people who are dear to me who are now facing the issue of potentially imminent mortality. To everything there is a season, and sometimes, it is the season to let go.
I grew up on a farm knowing that death is a part of life. Inseparable. But that never makes it easy. At Hospice we call ourselves Midwives, and we do what we can to ease the pain and be present as people are born into new life.
All the best to all of you for embracing your season.
Piper Bayard–The Pale Writer of the Apocalypse
You’re stronger than I’ll ever be. When death approached a member of my family I tried to be as far away as possible. I don’t think of it as a fear of death but a reluctance to become familiar with it.
Thank you, Tom, but I’m no pinnacle of strength. There have been plenty of times when I hid from death, disease, and, frankly, old people. But I’m older now. It’s just not your season yet.
Thank you so much for offering to share your experience on my blog. I too am facing mortality issues with one of my parents and an aunt right now. I’m posting from my other blog, but this is me, the death writer:)
Thank you for the opportunity, Pamela. It’s an honor.
Hi Piper.
Sorry to hear you news. It was a good interview and you’re a great person to be able to take on such things, I’m just saddened that you have to. All the best to you and yours.
Nigel
Thank you, Nigel. Your support and friendship mean a great deal to me and my family.
Sorry about your sad news Piper, but what a beautiful explanation of the amazing person you are! My deepest and most understanding support to you and your family.
If I may, a story of my own: Shortly after my husband died, his best friend (who had had a serious stroke a year before) was also dying, and in hospice care. The workers told his wife that he was still fairly strong, so probably had a couple of weeks to go. I didn’t want to, my own pain was still bloody and raw, but I went to visit, was told he knew he was dying, and that he was very sedated so probably wouldn’t respond. I sat and talked to him for a few minutes, even though there was little sign he even knew I was there. Finally I told him it would be all right, that when he got “there” my DH would be waiting, with his tool belt on, saying “C’mon, buddy, time to get to work!” as he always did. At that moment his eyes popped wide open, and he looked, not at me, but over my right shoulder. And smiled.
He passed two hours later.
What a wonderful story, Justine! How difficult that must have been for you to walk in that room, but what a gift to him that he did. Perhaps a gift to yourself, as well. Thanks so much for sharing that.
I’m sorry that you are facing three possible losses all at the same time. Best wishes.
Thank you, Richard.