My heart
prompted my presence.
Intuition guided me
toward a friend
in need of another spirit.
I entered an otherwordly realm
of serenity.
Hospice.
An ethereal
sense of calm
in the aura of imminent death
came over me.
A soft-spoken gentleness
saturated the environment.
My friend’s partner
was fading quickly.
No time left, but to linger
until the end.
His fight was heart-wrenching
and there was little
left to give.
Labored, raspy breaths
indicated how hard
he fought the desire to live
or to be released.
We continued to talk
outside his room.
Listening for sounds of life
soon realizing the silence.
I continued to be present
for my friend.
His release was final.
There was nothing more to do
or say in that moment.
My heart was heavy. A friend’s husband chose to stop his life-saving treatment. The constant pain had become too much to endure. Coming to this decision gave him a sense of control over his body and some peace. He had not been given long.
I have been feeling a wide range of sadness for those who make these end-of-life decisions. Contemplating the purpose of our existence is real when someone is deprived of the activities that bring them joy, and the essence of their life is drastically altered.
My sorrow reaches out to those who painfully watch their loved ones suffer, myself included. These are the times when we don’t honestly know whether we can function without them. Sometimes it leads us to question our own purpose on this earth. This ultimately becomes an important transition for those left to continue. Facing death prompts us to clarify our path.
To be deep into that end-of-life period as someone lies dying is the only way we’ll be able to determine our genuine reaction. And even then it’s questionable because emotions often take over and rationale meanders out the window. And because, as many of us know, grief is a roller coaster that can keep us hostage on its track for years without clemency.
For others, it’s a time of relief and a sense that life will go on. For those facing death, this is their wish for us once they’re no longer physically present. And in this situation, grief may take on a different tone. It will still surround us but we can choose not to let it control our existence.
There are several kinds of loss happening here. The physical passing of the person dying and the heartbreak felt by those of us experiencing this loss. Life will never be the same again which is yet another kind of death.
Over the years, as I’ve witnessed family and friends die, I have come to agree with the concept of choosing death if we are of sound mind and our options are limited.
I’m not on the side of “life at all costs”. It is our body after all.
Thank you for reading.
Michelle
“Release” artwork image: I completed this work on canvas after my father passed away from colon cancer. It was unbearable to see him in pain and although he did not choose to die, the cancer made that choice for him.
Beautiful...
A beautiful piece, Michelle. My Mother 'lived' with dementia for 17 years. I am sure she would have wished to have been released from her suffering years sooner, it would have been such a relief for her and those left to watch her die a very slow and undignified death.