On Death and Dying Alone

When we lose our loved ones, especially after we begin losing our siblings, our mortality rears up and roars at us. How long do we have left? How will we depart and how long will it take?

Reading the book given by Hospice on what to expect from your loved one as they begin to transition from this world to the next, is almost ghoulish, but I suppose it is something we need to know as we sit with our dying person. They tell us the rasping sounds emanating from the person we love is “normal.” 

Nurses at Hospice know when to call in the family as the last stages of life leave the patient They know when we need to be there to say our last good-byes. They can’t help us with this chore, and they can’t tell us how to do it to make the passing easier for our dear one. But they know all the symptoms of life leaving the body.

My question is how do the writers of this book know? 

As I spoke in my sister’s ear and told her I love her and urged her to sleep well, her breathing became faster and her eyes opened, unfocused, for a moment. I was sorry I spoke to her and wakened her from her journey. Perhaps it is best to leave the traveling to the dying because no matter how many people gather around, we still die alone. 

Even the little book says we withdraw from this world, gradually losing interest in reading, TV, news of the world around us, children and grandchildren, and we become totally self-absorbed. I imagine I would not be interested in the noisy television that seems to be a necessity in every hospital room. My sister said to turn it off.

When read to, she already seemed to be away, just smiling at the reader. My sister June had the nicest smile and the kindest heart. She would not be rude and say, “Stop reading. I don’t want to hear it.” Her smile became a sad expression in those last days as the hopelessness became more apparent. 

After watching death claim my loved ones, I understand that the process of dying is strenuous, is all consuming, and requires total self-absorption. 

Those of us left behind and grieving are just in the way. 

I think my sister would have liked to say to me, “Leave me alone. Go home now. I’m busy dying.”

And she completed that task only fifteen minutes later. 

Three sisters, Glenda, Gay and June in chair

Melissa, the Hospice Nurse

Melissa is a nurse with compassion and a great heart. She cared for both Barry and me for several days. I watched her tenderly wipe his brow with a damp wash cloth and carefully re-position his head on the pillow. She sometimes sat beside me and hugged me as I wept.
How does she do this day after day, I wonder. Her business is smoothing the journey of the dying as they travel on to another realm.But she also tends the living who stay behind and grieve.
I could never do what she does, but I am oh, so thankful that she can do it.
Melissa made up for my frustration in dealing with a medical world that no one could understand. I told her she was, indeed, an angel of mercy.
She told me that I had inspired her. How could that be? I saw nothing in what I was going through that could inspire anyone.
"You have inspired me, " she said, " because I see the love you have for your husband, and although I've seen many people pass through this place, I've never been touched by anyone as I have you. I have been married twenty years, and I hope I can love my husband as much as you love Barry."

We never know what our actions say to others even in the most difficult times. I saw myself desperately trying to help my husband transcend this world in peace, to be relieved of suffering, and to know he could leave me with no fear for my well-being. I agonized over my decisions and begged doctors to help me make them. I'd never have thought of myself as inspiring.