Good deaths have a ripple effect that go out for a long, long way, for a long, long time and, unfortunately, so do bad deaths.
I just stumbled across a blog post titled rapture? (not what you think) on Wild Celtic Rose where she describes a personal experience with each kind of death, and she manages to convey the lasting legacy of each far more eloquently than I’ve ever been able to do. I highly recommend a read if you get a couple free minutes sometime. (It’s not that long and you may cry from the beauty at the end. I sure did.)
She also brushes lightly over a couple of other interesting (and loaded) topics.
The first involves the subject of respecting another person’s right to die the way they choose (and one possible cost of not respecting said right.)
The second involves the legal right we all have to forego any treatment and die if that’s what we prefer.
And the third involves that elusive, fragile, and exquisite grace that usually surfaces when faith is respected across a divide in beliefs. She captures the spirit of this so beautifully when she says (talking about the good death):
“Sometimes we look at other beliefs with skepticism at best.
I can say that the honest, giving, loving, non-judgmental way in which Craig and Nina lived their lives is as “Christ like” as I have ever seen.
I honestly don’t know if there is a heaven or not.
Even though we are of different faiths, I thoroughly believe that if there is one, that Craig is there and he will be joined by Nina and the rest of his family.”
A beautiful expression of how we can still love and be moved by another’s faith without necessarily sharing their beliefs.
I really, really hope you have a rapturous, awakening, living-it-like-it-was your-last kind of moment sometime this week. We should all be that lucky.
Yes! I agree whole heartedly!! I believe all should have a right to choose when itts time to “stop” : nutrition, hydration, medications, oxygen, etc. I’ve had Hospice patients remove their own feeding tubes when the family was against stopping the tube feedings. Let’s let them tell us what they want or don’t want. And then always respect every patient’s faith or lack of faith without judgment.
One lady said to me, “Just sit with me awhile. You don’t need to talk very much. Just listen. I want to tell you my story.” I hope when my time comes someone will listen to me.
It’s such a battle of instincts at times like that, isn’t it Becki? The deep drive to nurture is a hard one to turn. I would love to sit over coffee and listen to some of your stories sometime!
Honestly, Dia, I try to have one of those moments at least once a day. They are often fleeting moments, brought about my the most insanely ordinary things…a fine meal, a fine wine, the lowering sun casting haunting shadows across the foothills. It takes very little to excite my sense of gratitude for the moment. I’m grateful to those who’ve shown me how important this is.
Well lived, Linda! I’ve been too busy to be grateful myself. 🙂 I really need to slow down a little and slide back into some grace.
Breathe deeply and keep in the FRONT of you mind that each moment provides another opportunity to see/experience beauty and truth.
I’ve allowed my inner silent place to become crowded and noisy I’m afraid. Need to gently herd everyone and everything back out the gate again where they can mill around just outside if they like. It really is such a state of mind thing, as you say!