Today there was another death. One of my dearest friends lost her mother this afternoon. Funny thing is that I knew they were doing home hospice and late this morning I had this overwhelming need to call. When I called she was faithfully sitting next to her mother watching and waiting for the last breath. She died not long after I called.
I remember sitting with my Ma'am-Ma and Daddy as they died just three weeks apart. I remember all of the emmotions I felt. Blogged it all at another blog. I've witnessed birth. I've witnessed death.
People always see the beauty in new life and the purpose in new life. But I think we've forgotten to see the beauty and purpose in death as well. We say that every life has its purpose. I've come to realize this afternoon that so does every death. Not just the release of illness. There's more. Death is intimate, like having a baby or making love. They all cause pain. They all bring joy.
I know the great purpose my Daddy's death was. And it wasn't to release him from the pain of his cancer or to move on from this life. But I know what it was. I can't tell what the purpose was for the tragic deaths of recent. The death of a child from a brain tumor. The death of three 18-year-old boys in a boating accident. The people freezing to death. A wife/mother and her two children dieing in a fire. I can't tell you their purpose. The latter three weren't even expected. They were violent and horrific. Yet I know in my heart and my soul that there was purpose.
Maybe it's because I'm a person of faith.
This afternoon I threw away a porcelain doll my dad gave me a few years before he died. About 2 1/2 years ago it had been knocked over by one of the kids and the foot broke into several pieces. I cried and yelled and searched dilligently for all the pieces. It's been sitting in a cabinet waiting for repair ever since. I had actually forgotten it was up there. It didn't hurt to toss it. It was just an object. There are plenty more of those. I just don't feel the need to hold on to every thing that he gave me or touched. It's been my way of holding on to his life.
But by letting it go, I can also hold on to his death. It's sadness. It's beauty. It's intimacy. It's purpose.
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~
2 comments:
I have both of my parents, my husband lost both.
Death can have purpose, but working in the ER I saw a few that made me think it can be pointless, too.
The worst I ever had to see was a eight-month pregnant woman. She threw a clot in her sleep and died. Her husband realized she hadn't been up to use the bathroom at all and woke in a start.
He called the bus, and they realized she hadn't been gone long so the started cpr. They knew she was gone but were trying to save her twins.
I was the only ER tech with OB experience, so I helped deliver the babies. They hung on for a few hours, but both died.
I know God's will must be done in all things, but I have never seen the purpose in that.
I haven't witnessed death but have arrived right after, twice, and I agree with you completely about how intimate and powerful it is; amazing. Sorry to hear that all three of those boys passed away...
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