One way I have found to gain insight on my higher purpose is to digest the moments that have brought peace and a sense of centeredness to my being. It is said that one of the most stressful experiences a human being could have is dealing with the death of a loved one, yet I have always felt at home with the dying and see the process as an opportunity to be truly present at the dissolution of fear. I also see it as the inevitable and final vehicle for total surrender.
I always thought that my conversations with the dying began with my father and uncle but today I recalled a memory of an occasion back in 1985. Although my grandmother was a smoker since the age of 15, she was a healthy 84 at the time. She had suffered a severe stroke that left her in a coma and with substantial brain damage. I had seen her three days prior to the stroke. I visited her at my uncle’s home and we spoke about everything: my schooling, my family, and whether I could sneak in a pack of Newport cigarettes. It was one of those conscious moments as a 15 year old that come so rarely when visiting the elderly.
I picked up the phone when the hospital called. My mother did not know enough English to understand the doctor’s pronouncements so I needed to translate. “Your grandmother has a very high probability of never waking up, we are keeping her alive through the use of machines, but it is likely that she will be brain dead. “Mamy, no creen que se va a despertar.” We need to know what you would like us to do.” "Necesitan a saber que quieres hacer." My mother then said to me in Spanish “I don’t know what to do.” I then said to her: “You have had your mother till she was 84. If I have you for that long, I will consider myself very blessed. We need to let her go. Through tears my mother than said, “Esta bien. Ok.” I told the doctor, that she has given permission to take my Wela off life support. I hung up the phone and gave my mother a hug. My grandmother died that day.
My father had not seen his older brother for 30 years. It turns out that his older brother was the first to leave Puerto Rico and did not look back. I remember my father looking for his brother ever since I was a young child. There were rumors he was living in Florida, or that he went back to Puerto Rico. None of them ever materialized.
Then one day, about a year and half after my father was diagnosed with a terminal disease, we received a call from a doctor in Westminster, MA. My uncle is dying of the same illness as my father and wants to be reunited. Surprisingly, my uncle always knew how to reach his younger brother but never did. The families got together but both brothers were too weak to see each other. On October 25, 1992, my sisters and I took a trip to Westminster to celebrate my uncle’s birthday at the hospital where he was staying. He was not able to communicate but we enjoyed some cake and family in his honor.
I asked to be left alone with him. I put my hand over his heart and looked into his eyes. Although he could not speak, his gaze said volumes. I took out a picture of my dad and showed it to him, he began to tear up. I then said to him, “Pray that you get to see your brother in heaven soon.” I left the hospital and went back to school in Boston.
The following day, my uncle passed away. I was saddened by the expected news but distracted because that same day, a friend had a heart murmur and was rushed to the hospital. I stayed at another friend’s home that night after a long day at Beth Israel hospital in Boston and went right to bed. That day, I woke up at 8am with a surge of energy that I can only describe as pure love. Since as a college student, I was not accustomed to waking up with any energy, I was sure that I had overslept. I looked at the clock on my friend’s VCR and it said 8:09am. I got up and headed to my dorm room. When I arrived, my roommate was waiting for me with a frightened look on his face. “You need to call your sister” he said.
My dad was also gone. He passed away at 8am. The first thought I had were of my words to my uncle “Pray that you get to see your brother in heaven soon.”
I did not give much thought to the spiritual significance of these experiences. That is until the extraordinary role I was to play in the passing of my mother in law and that of a good friend was revealed.
No comments:
Post a Comment