As You Prepare to Leave

I'm feeling it tonight

Though I don't quite know what "it" is

It is a thankfulness

And a sadness

All wrapped together

She's in palliative care now

My mom says

Her health is declining

She will soon leave us

She's been a hero for me

Someone ahead, further down the road

Her life has given me glimpses of what mine might be

As I've watched her

Fifty years ahead of me

Aunt Annie,

I hope I will be like you in so many ways

Your positive outlook

Your choosing of grace, forgiveness and service

Rather than self-pity, bitterness or complaining

Your consistently reaching out to others

And yet trusting the Lord yourself too

There is probably much more too

But honestly, we haven't seen each other very often

For me to know more

I'm thankful for the amount of connection we've had

For your emails

For your encouragement

I hope this last leg of the journey goes well for you

I hope you know His comfort

His peace

I hope He holds you, in a very special way

I hope you are at peace

And that there is joy

As you graduate on

To the life after this one

Thank you for this life you have lived

Thank you for showing me how to live it well

To live it with courage

And with grace

I will choose to remember you

And I will take courage from your life

Long after you are gone

Thank you for your faithful journey

Thank you for the strength you have imparted to me

Blessings

Peace

Comfort

Be yours

I wrote another post for Aunt Annie a few years ago, for her 94th birthday. Here is more of this woman, and how she has blessed and impacted me: Thanks Aunt Annie!

Update: on Nov. 10, 2017 Aunt Annie took her last breath...

How Long Will I be Here?

Someone I know and respect lost his brother this week. He posted this music video. Ever since I watched it the words and melody have been running through my head.

The man who died--sounds like he was an amazing person, and a blessing to many.

He was 54 when he died.

I am 46.

Many have not made it to the age I am now.

A cousin was only 19 when he succumbed to cancer.

An uncle was only 42 when he left this world.

Some of my great aunts have lived long lives.

They would joke around--"One of our sisters died when she was young, she was 59." (Or was it 69?) Yes, they mostly lived well into their 90's, one (at least) past 100.

And so I ponder again this question: How long will I be here?

Not sure how much time I should spend pondering it.

At this point I don't know the answer, and don't really need to know.

And yet to stop and feel it, the poignancy and mystery of the brevity of life, and the reality that it is beyond our control--not a bad thing.

Somehow, it seems, it is important to learn to hold this reality, to live humbly before it.

And somehow it's important to then, not fritter away our days, make sure they are invested for what matters, lived well--stewarding well the "talents" entrusted to us.

How long do I have?

How long do I have

How long will I live

People die all the time

Some young

Some old

Thinking I have a 'vision' that will take another 15 years

Is no guarantee

When I go

What will I leave

What will remain

What will keep living

Long after I have breathed my last

Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground

   and dies...

May there be something

    much even

That lives on, and on, and on

Forever

Never dying

(rambling thoughts after seeing a news piece...someone dies at 49...just 4 years older than I...)

Death, part 2

Death came again
In ALL of its ugliness and horror
Leaving so much devastation
Those already hurting
Having suffered blows
Barely standing
Smacked again with this one
How will they handle it Lord
What happened
How...

What good could come out of this
What hope
How are they going to make it
I fear...some will be completely devastated
Beyond recovery

The tributes are being written
So many honouring the strength they saw
The encouragement they were given
One woman
Success and struggle
Pain and beauty
Gutsy, pushing limits, adventuresome
Hurting, hiding

... ... ...
 
NO
Not hiding
There was hurt
But she named it
Faced it

It's becoming more and more clear
The goodness left behind
There is a common theme
Her smile
Offered free
Strength of words and encouragement
Blessing many
The young, the weak, the broken, the rebels
Love for all
Love that didn't have to be earned
She saw the treasure in each one
Made each feel they were special, valued

Yes, there will be many tears
And much ache
For years to come
For the loss of one
Who meant so much
To so many
Who brightened the world
For so many

May we learn, and grow, and treasure
All that was good

And, oh, Lord, please wrap Your arms
Especially around her children

Death, part 1

Death comes, and catches us all by surprise
In an instant
Gone
(Well, this time, they had a few hours' notice)

It doesn't make sense
It doesn't fit
So much not yet right
So not the right time

When IS the right time for death?

No "pretty" cross

I wanted something to help me focus, to remember. All of the crosses for sale...many were so beautiful. I'd seen a room done, the ironwork on the crosses--beautiful, and altogether it created a peaceful and meditative atmosphere. There is a time and a place for that.

But I decided, I didn't want to buy a pretty cross. I need, somehow, to have a cross that reminds me, that calls me, to suffer, to die.

Oh, the one I chose is still much prettier than the real thing. There are no nails. There is no blood... It is simple, small and black...it can sit in front of me.

Truth be told...I'd much prefer a pretty cross.

Even as I sit here, thinking of how I run from "my cross," I had the thought..."hmm...maybe I need to move that to front and center on my table." I was thinking that might help me meditate on it more.

NO, I don't need to meditate on it!  Even my not-so-pretty cross, is only meant to remind me to DO what He said to do. Jesus said to take up the cross and follow Him...I'd much rather look at it, analyze it, ponder it, think about how it's hard, write a blog post about it. I'd rather do all of these things than actually pick up mine and carry it.

But I need to pick it up.
The problem with me, is I want to choose my cross. I want to choose my death.
There are some that are much nicer than others.
But it is the one before me that is mine to carry.
Anyone who doesn't pick it up, is not worthy of Him.
I need no pretty cross.
I probably don't even need this one.
I DO need to learn to pick up my cross, to die daily.

At Jarius' house

It must have been such a great day. Sickness, and death, turned to resurrection and life. I can imagine the amazement, the joy, the laughter, the wonder!

Did You ever see a dead person You didn't heal? Did You ever stay around a dying person and just be with them as they died--to comfort them, and later the family?  I don't think there are any recorded. It seems You healed them, or were somewhere else when people died, and then sometimes You came to bring them back to life. Could You not stand it? Could the author of life not bear to be in the presence of death? The only death You stayed around to endure was...Your own. And soon that death, also ended in Life. It's all pretty amazing.

And yet, it's still disturbing, how we're left here to face death, and just watch it as it comes, try to cope after it happens. Some people say it's not like that. Some would say You want to heal--almost every time it seems, and raise many from the dead. I believe You do sometimes...but generally I don't buy that.

So...I'm just kind of wondering...why You couldn't allow death, and yet we need to. We'd all really rather be...in Jarius' house, or outside of Lazarus's tomb, or carrying the bier when you came over and raised the widow's son. We'd all like to see death, turned to life, sooner, rather than later. 

Grief

The chorus of Jason Upton's Father of the Fatherless started going through my head again the other day--about half-way through the guys' grief support group. Three guys--all have had their fathers die. One--mom left even before that. Two of them--dad died when they were so young, they hardly knew what was happening. The other, between when mom left in grade 4, and his dad came back (from working away) with late stage cancer in grade 9, he only saw him two times. He walked into the hospital room with his cousin and his dad asked, "Which one of you is my son?" ...didn't even recognize his own son! One of the guys expressed so poignantly the loss--how hard it is, all the things you have to face when your father dies. Your family becomes poor. Older brothers and sisters had to drop out of school and go to work. He had to fight to be able to go to high school--mom wanted him to go off to work, but others rallied around to support. "Everything I have to learn by myself...even making friends, relating to other people." I'm glad he's finally found safety and courage to name the loss, name the pain.

Father of the fatherless
Come down and rescue us
We need You
We need You again
Friend of the the friendless
Come down and visit us
We need You
We need You again

And then the girls...oh, even more pain there, maybe because there were more of them, but also other factors that come in for girls. Twelve girls, and as one shared and cried, there would be tears and sniffling all around the circle. A couple were given to other families to raise, "They told everyone I had died." After being passed around several times, one finally got to live with her parents again. She said, "I worked hard to earn their love, I used my grades to show them I was a good girl and worthy of their love... it seems to be working, so I must have been successful." Her siblings would sometimes mock her saying she was "a child brought in from the wild." Sometimes, when fighting, they would tell her, "go home, to your home," meaning somewhere else, other than there. Ah, but she is comforted now by her "success." Even though she has health problems, her family seems willing to take her for treatment and pay whatever that costs. Another girl--her mom (both parents?) came to her grandma's house to give birth to her, then left, and she has never seen them again.

One was holding her mother, trying to prop her up to drink some sugar water, mom was having trouble, she told her brother to go get her dad, but by the time he got there she had stopped breathing. Does she wonder if it's her fault? Another--it sounded like she felt guilty for the death...if only her parents weren't away having to make money for her tuition. Oh...and there is much more.

Oh the pain they carry. Lord...please comfort...love them somehow...bring them home, to You, in You. And somehow, show us how to carry these burdens with them, to comfort, to encourage, to be Your love in the pain.

Death...again

I think I just saw someone die
again

Similar to last time in some ways
hear...a thud, a crash
look out the window
4 floors down
in the intersection
two motorbikes have collided
flat on the ground
one guy is jumping up hopping away
he seems shocked
surprised at what happened
adrenalin fuelling a reaction
the other, still on his bike
head to the ground
his arm was moving
a few little 'flaps' or twitches
and then they stopped
other than that
he didn't move at all

It happens so fast
I'm sure he never could have imagined
just  little ride around town
here to there
without a helmet
but this time
his last ride

I was shocked
half cried
sobs with no tears
prayed for that one

but then...
ambulance came
that person
it looked like
what?!
Oh good!
not even "a body lifted onto a stretcher"
but lifted, and supported upright
he is helped into the ambulance
Good! he's okay

but now...
two motorbikes still there
one...I think
is hiding something
I can tell by the screams
of someone else
as they hold her back
don't let her near
there must be another body
on the ground
behind the other bike

one young man gets taken away
in an ambulance
another body
gets lifted
into the back
the flatbed
of a police pickup truck

someone did just die
within earshot
without a moment's notice
without time to say good-bye

Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy

Gone

It's gone now

Washed away by the rain

The blood spilled on the pavement last night

All the signs are gone

But still I remember

I want to remember

Don't know how or if I should remember

Don't know what to do with it

It happened so fast

And rather familiar

But the outcome is not always so devastating

I heard from my kitchen

Up here on the 4th floor

A thump

Then, looking out

Saw people running

I too...went to look

Out my office

There on the ground a man

Dark pants, white shirt

Fallen off his motorbike

Guess he had been hit

People were there

Trying to pull him up

A lady with a baby carrier

Worked to pull the motorbike off him

At first I thought he was moving, responding

That the next thing he'd do is struggle to get up

Shake himself, stumble a bit

But get up

But he didn't

He seemed to curl up a bit

And the crowd stepped away

And the dark stain around his head was clear

and huge

Even from the 4th floor

The ambulance came

I didn't see them take him

The last I saw was the spot with all the blood...

and the motorbike still there

Police checking, measuring

And finally ... just the blood was left

But now even that is gone

Washed away by the rain

But him

Is he gone?

Did I watch him go last night?

Or maybe he was gone before I even saw anything?

Did someone lose their husband last night?

Their father?

Or is he still in hospital, struggling to remain?

How should I think about this?

How should I respond?

How should I remember, or not remember?

It's the kind of thing that makes you want to do something

Or feel like you should have

Last night--what did I do?

Whisper a prayer:

     "Lord have mercy" "Lord, help him live"

Make a couple of calls, overcome that "surely someone down there must

     have called an ambulance" thinking, but by the time I got the number 

     and called, the ambulance had arrived

Send a text message to a colleague: "Do you ALWAYS wear a helmet 

     when on your motorbike, even for short distances in town? This is

     what I just saw..."

Lord, bless the man, bless his family

Lord have mercy

Lord have mercy

--The accident: June 3, 2012, around 9 p.m.

Can't dying just be easy?

It seems the next steps for me will involve an awfull lot of dying. 
And dying is painful.

Oh this is a good dying, to stuff that I need and want (sort of) to die to. Well, at least I don't want to live the results, to be the person I will become if I do not die.

But dying is hard.

Fortunately, Jesus is my teacher, and He did the dying thing rather perfectly. He "emptied Himself". He took up His real and literal cross. He invites me to a daily death and much better resurrection...

I need to empty myself.
I need to let go of my ideas about my own importance and correctness.
I need to die to ownership of projects--this is all Yours Lord.
I need to put to death all anger and jealousy, all malice. (Oh dear, I fear in the waiting, they have grown roots.)
I need to humbly admit my failings. Probably there will be humble apologies too.

Oh Jesus...I'm scared.
I can't do this unless I know you're leading me, unless I know You're speaking to me, and that I can hear You. Please show me...  May I live in Your love as I die.

Last week You said, "Come to Me". I need to remember that, keep remembering that, and keep coming to YOU.

As I come to You and look at You, perhaps some of these things will die quite naturally, more easily fall away. But I expect there are some hard and brittle bits that will only leave by serious cutting and scraping--serious heart searching and some hard conversations with others.  

Now to spend time planning, going forward. And...I need to recruit some buddies that will cheer me along in the process, maybe give perspective, ideas, and hope for those hard conversations.

I Pause to Weep...

I pause to weep for her
for her pain

What would it be like? I can't imagine
To have your mom come to town
Lay on your bed, tell you how
A week ago she almost took her life

Well, not sure if she really wanted to take her life
They had been fighting, 
and this story has happened before
Mom and Dad fighting
(Usually he's mad because she keeps needing to take medicine
And it costs money)
He was drunk
And mad
so he said he was going to kill himself
grabbed the bottle of pesticide
She told the kids to stop him
He couldn't open the bottle
The kids couldn't stop him, turn to her
She wrestled it from him
And smashed it on the ground

Then, to shock him
took a rope and started to hang herself 
(story a little fuzzy at this point)
but she fell
and the rope was tight
and she couldn't get free
fainted
a neighbour saw
called others
and rescued

but this wasn't the first time
and, other than feeling bad for the kids
she wonders why not

I began pausing to weep for the daughter
but now ... also the father
and mother
and children
father...feels he doesn't get a return on his labour
mother...doesn't know if life is worth it, regrets marrying this man
children...one, when in grade 3, tried to hang herself one day when she was mad
 
I'm sure they feel much more than all this...
This is the part I heard
I pause to weep...

Where my heart goes...

My eyes were a little wet before heading to the centre this morning. Thinking about the grade 10 student...her mom died on the 12th, Mid-Autumn Day--a traditional family gathering day. I knew she would probably die that day, but didn't find out till yesterday.

At least a few tears should fall each time I learn that someone I know loses someone.

My eyes were wet again walking home from the centre after lunch. The grade 12 guy who lost his dad on July 9th--at this weekly chat he cried again; it's so hard.  We talked about how he just couldn't hold the tears back at the night class on the 9th of this month. And how he keeps thinking (and I cry as I think it about it now), "He was dying, and I was playing." How does someone get over the guilt?

When I left the centre, another guy was still there. Since we've opened it up for them to stay and hang out after lunch--read, or do homework or just nap--he's stayed behind every time. He takes every single opportunity to stay, to hang out, to participate in activities.  I'm glad. Back in February I was worried about him. His older brother told me he had said he had considered suicide, was struggling. He lost his dad 7 years ago, must have been only 10, I'm glad he's signed up for the grief group in October. His mom, was seeing someone, but the family was opposed. That was awkward. But he is keen to grow and learn--admit his struggles and go forward. I think he'll be okay, but he needs a home.

Lots of stuff for high school students to face. I can't imagine. Well, I can, so ... I cry.

I cry, usually when they are not around, after I have been in their presence to comfort and walk along-side, help them find their way, lead them through a process that I think will help strengthen. And then I step back, reflect, process, and cry.

"Father of the fatherless, come down and rescue us. We need you. We need you again" (Jason Upton)

Death

A student's father died today. He had been bedridden and unable to speak or do anything for himself for two years. The accident two years ago was a tragic loss. Today they feel another tragic loss.

Two days ago there was a murder in town--mother and her 11 year old son. Apparently it was a break and entry, robbery...and then two were killed. A man has lost his wife and child.

Last week a friend and I met and suddenly got talking with the owner of a small restaurant. She ended up coming over to borrow some books, and in the process I found out about her husband...died just a few months ago of cancer of the throat. She, as is common here, never told him he had cancer and was dying.

I was looking through my 'drafts' and found something I started to write a few months ago about the gory pictures around town. A body had been found in two parts near the river and they were trying to figure out who it was and who did it.


Oh, and how can I forget--the 20+ trapped underground in a mine last week--this one made international news...I hear they are still pumping water, still haven't found the workers.

Death. A painful part of this world in which we live. It will be nice--the day that death dies. Until then...