It’s been a tough week. For two years we knew this was coming, yet it still seems surreal. It’s not really discussed because it’s such an unpleasant topic, but death comes to all of us.
My 88-year-old Dad started to decline rapidly last week. While he could no longer stand up or walk and had trouble feeding himself, he still was a participating member of the family. Then he had trouble sitting up, his kidneys had started to fail and he started getting confused and agitated. I was blessed to visit him and tell that I loved him before he was bedridden, slipping in and out of consciousness. And then we waited for the end… and waited… and waited. It took almost four days before he finally breathed his last. I prayed to St. Joseph, the patron for a happy death. I prayed to Pope Saint John Paul II, who also suffered from Parkinsons’ just like my Dad. I also prayed to Fr. Hamilton, a fabulous priest that I miss. I prayed for them to help my Dad make the transition. Every morning and every evening and at times throughout the day, why was he lingering so long? It was like he was the Energizer Bunny, just going and going.
At one point during the vigil at his deathbed, I took a few steps back and just pondered the situation. As one in the physical realm, I see that he is physically lingering, his breathing gurgling yet in some way still strong. But we are not just in the physical world. We have a soul, what’s going on with his soul? Only God knows that, and God knows what He’s doing. Perhaps what appears to us as lingering is really the opportunity for the soul to prepare itself. Who am I to wish that Dad’s life be cut short because I feel uncomfortable watching and listening to him breathe? What mattered most was that he was well cared for, not in pain, and never alone.
Taking in Dad laying in the bed and space around it, I began to pray. How many times I have prayed the Hail Mary, yet now when I got to the end of the prayer, it was hard to say, “…now, and at the hour of our death.” Yet in that moment, I had a sense that he was surrounded by angels and saints and they were joyful and excited. Here I am with tears down my cheeks while they were happy. And why wouldn’t they be? They were getting ready to welcome him to his final home.
Death may be an unpleasant topic because we are so fully immersed in a physical world. Would it be easier if we knew just what awaited us on the other side? Maybe. Perhaps in a physical realm, we would not be able to grasp just what the spiritual realm has to offer. Or just knowing would not be satisfactory to us and life in the physical realm would lose its meaning.
I know Dad’s soul is in the hands of Jesus. I hope He has said to him, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Come, share your master’s joy.” (Matthew 25:21).