Wednesday, January 23, 2008

New Beginnings

My little artist's rendition of the two big beginnings around here:
Grandma's new body, new wings, and the sun always shines...
And this'll be me in 6 more months...
HIP HIP HOORAY!!!

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Sweet Release

I don't remember when I started believing that when a person died they got to "put on" the sunset that night for their own friends and family. Well, Thank you Grandma, for a beautiful sunset tonight...
And thank you all SO much for your prayers and lit candles. I was overwhelmed by your emails and calls. She soared up into the sky at 2:25 this afternoon. It was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.
I've been feeling her spirit visiting me in my sleep, and each time I've visited her in the last few days she hasn't been responding to anything I've said so I knew it was only that silver cord that was keeping her bound to earth. I knew the cord would be broken very soon...
I crawled into bed with her around noon today and sang to her for awhile. I kept singing while I braided her hair and washed her face and hands. Family started arriving shortly after 1:30, I think. First her daughter came, then some of her grandchildren. I encouraged them all to say a private good-bye to their Grandma, and asked them to sing a hymn to her. The first lot chose #8 and I remembered it from my youth so we all sang heartily along. The last grandaughter to arrive was feeling fear being in the room alone with her as she said her good-bye, so she asked me to join her. I was relieved to be asked back into the room because I was feeling panicy that the cord was about to be broken. J and I did some energy work on Grandma's body and I felt her body go dark. I started singing "Take My Hand Precious Lord" (which I'd been singing to her over and over for a few days at this point) and J joined in. Then Jill and Mary Lou heard us singing and came back into the room and joined in for the last two verses. It was so beautiful. We were sitting around Grandma's bed, holding her hands and her feet and caressing her face. I decided to share the vision I'd had this morning about her funeral. There are some very strong personalities in Grandma's family, and it looked like it was going to be difficult to meet everyone's needs peacefully. I said I thought that we each had to make sure our needs were met in our own grieving, but the spirit in which we planned this next week needed to be done in a way that would be a tribute to Grandma. Grandma had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. It was xceptionally rare that she ever judged anyone, and she just seemed to have room in her big heart for everyone. She had a terrible time with conflicts within her family, and I hoped that we'd be able to get through this next week without conflict. We all agreed, and then Grandma yawned! And then she opened her eyes! And then she yawned again and closed her mouth! And then she was gone...

It was one of the most beautiful moments I've been blessed to be part of.

Good-Bye My DEAR SWEET GRANDMA. I'll never forget you. I'll try my best to keep your beautiful spirit alive in me. I'll do all I can to keep the peace this next week. I'll love you forever. Thank you for being so much to me. Good-bye.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Whispers in the wind...

(this is not a photo of gma sleeping -- this is how she is all the time now, she was moaning a little and i felt she wanted to sing along with some of the hymns. i hope this isn't too disturbing for some of you. i gasp when i first walk into her room now... it is so hard to see her deteriorating like this!)
The last good visit I had with my matriarch was all about death. She grabbed my hands and she asked me to help her die. She said she felt it was time and she needed my help. I openly cried. Tears pouring down my face not because I'm not ready to let her go, but because of the healing in my heart from having that visit with her. I said good-bye to her, told her how much she means to me, openly crying, shamelessly grieving... It wasn't just her I was talking to. It wasn't just her hands I was caressing and kissing. It wasn't just her hair I was stroking. It wasn't just her eyes I was kissing... It was so healing to have the chance to say okay, you're going to die? I love you and I'll miss you and I'll never forget you... All the things I would've given anything to be able to do and say 7 years ago...


But how do you help someone die? I've been praying to God several times a day to please come and take her home. I've been whispering into the wind to my mum and dad to come and take her hand and help her cross over. I've been talking to the birds and the stars and the clouds and even to my chickens, appealing to the spirits they carry to assist her in letting go... And I have a candle almost constantly lit, sending her my courage and my love.


She hasn't been able to speak since that visit. She can't open her eyes and she can barely swallow a drop of water at a time. She can't form words, but she tried to say my name last night when I went to hold her hand. She's definitely still there, it's evident she's wanting to communicate, but she can't. Last night I fed her her medicine a drop at a time and then some water a drop at a time and as she struggled to swallow, coughing and sputtering, I sang to her. I sang her old favourite hymns, any that I could find that were comforting and encouraging of her letting go.


I talk to God with her into her ear, being her voice as I know her mind is fuzzy. I say "I'm ready, dear God, to come and rest with you. I've lived my life for you, sweet Jesus, and I need your help in crossing over to you. Show me the light that is brighter than than the noonday sun and I will follow you home... Please God, take me home..." And then I leave her with the hymns ringing in her ears and the peace of God in her heart.


I can't do anything else... but sit with her whenever I can get away and make the trek to her bedside. I'm not a singer, and the nurses and aides peek their heads in the door too (!) often, nodding encouragement, tears in their eyes, offering to bring me drinks... Not stiff enough ones though... But I keep my courage up and sing loudly to her because the courage it requires to sing hymns to a deaf woman in the quiet of a nursing home surely pales in comparison to the courage it requires to let go and soar into the sky...


Light a candle for Grandma, if you will. She just needs a few more prayers to let her spirit soar. She thanks you. and loves you. Me too.