Saying Goodbye - Both Happy and Sad

This weekend we said goodbye to my aunt.  It was a lesson to me in how to live a life of love and meaning as I sat in the church packed with family, friends and mere acquaintances who all took the time to come together to remember an incredible lady.  There were many, mostly family, who traveled a long way to be here, and others who came a few blocks because she meant enough to them to make the trip.  As most memorial services are, it was both a time of sadness for our loss and happy, sometimes funny, memories of someone we all loved.

Then the next day, the family gathered at our family gravesite to pay our respects to those who have already passed on.  I don't live near my relatives, but we have a unique family where all of my mom's family - our grandparents, aunts & uncles and cousins - all grew up together.  This means that all 16 of us cousins grew up like brothers & sisters and we all felt like we had 6 sets of parents.  It's incredible, now that the next generation is reaching adulthood, that we can still gather like this and feel like we're all part of a legacy of family completely dedicated to each other even though we have scattered around the country.

My aunt would have loved this, and my grandparents would have been proud to see us all there, together in unity experiencing both sadness at having to say goodbye to yet another loved one and joy in being together.  This was an opportunity for us "kids" to graduate to the next level and become the generation who is responsible for carrying on the family traditions and passing on our important lessons to our kids, so that they can take over someday.

My uncle gave each of us the opportunity to say something as we were gathered around the family plot, and for the first time, I really appreciated how special our family is and how all the years of growing together and gathering have allowed us to truly celebrate who we are and open up the deepest parts of ourselves to each other.  It's true that our loved ones who have already passed on still live on in each one of us - that was clearly evident yesterday.  And I believe it's also true that as long as there are those who remember you, your spirit will continue to live on.  Our task now is to keep those memories alive in our kids to pass them on to their kids, and so on, to keep this special family living on forever.

Dealing with Dying

Death is not an easy topic for anyone, but I’m coming to understand that it is something we will all have to face sooner or later. For me, unfortunately, it’s sooner.

My dad has cancer. It has spread to the point that there is nothing traditional medicine can do for him except keep him comfortable. I still can’t figure out how comfortable you can be when you know you have cancer growing in your belly, but at least he doesn’t seem to be in a lot of pain right now. He’s been living with his cancer diagnosis for over a year now, and while he is clearly deteriorating, he’s also hanging on and fighting as hard as he can.

On the other hand, my aunt seemed to be in constant pain. She passed away 3 days ago, and while I hate to say it, it’s probably better that she’s not suffering anymore. Her battle with cancer came with the diagnosis only 2 weeks ago, which led to agonizing days of watching her wasting away quickly and unable to escape the pain. She wasn't able to talk or otherwise communicate her needs or wishes but was still aware of her surroundings. I’m sure it didn’t help to know that her family was in disagreement over how to handle her care and her final arrangements, and as much as I love my cousins, I’m thankful I didn’t have to be in the middle of their differences of opinion.

It’s astounding to realize that this is more than a bad dream – that I’ve actually been watching my loved ones die. A colleague of mine said that when she was going through the process with her parents, it seemed surreal. That’s a good word to describe what this is like. The good daughter in me wants to be there to support my dad – and my mom – as they deal with this disease and what it is slowly doing to his body. I want to be there to help him sit up and to hear what he has to say, regardless of how difficult it sometimes is to understand him since weakness has affected his voice as well. I want to meet with the doctors and get a better understanding of what’s happening to my dad, so that I might be better able to deal with what comes when it comes. But it is also extraordinarily difficult to be there amid sickness and sadness and waiting when life is busy moving forward outside of the confines of my parents’ house.  For me, Mom & Dad are a plane ride away from my husband and kids and I'm torn each time they drop me off at the airport.

Time changes when you’re in the middle of the death watch. On one hand, it goes quickly as you busy yourself with giving medications, meeting with medical providers and taking care of day-to-day tasks. And I take a deep breath each time I know my dad has made it to see another day. On the other hand time is eerily slow, as it seemed as we watched my aunt struggle with each breath she took. During these moments, time seems cruel and tortuous.  But the one thing we can't change is that, eventually, the time will come for each one of us.  I don't think knowing that makes things easier, but accepting that can actually bring a smidgen of comfort during a difficult process - it's really not that someone is playing a cruel trick or that it's not fair.  Death is part of the natural progression of life, and I'm thankful I can look back and know that my dad has lived his life well.  I only hope I can say the same about my life when my time comes.