I returned to Room 209 for a final time.
The door was closed. I opened it and discovered that my aunt had not moved in the few short hours since I'd last visited. Still, she was gone.
The door was closed. I opened it and discovered that my aunt had not moved in the few short hours since I'd last visited. Still, she was gone.
Death had mercifully spared her: from falls and dementia, starvation and loneliness. Unlike ten days ago, I was not fearful or despairing when I entered Room 209 and felt the presence of Death. I was grateful he was there to end her suffering. Setting her free on the yellow brick road, he had sent her home.
A moment of joy in death; it’s stunning.
But as I packed my aunt’s few belongings, and held Mom’s hand for a final prayer and goodbye, I was overwhelmed; imagining the peace, love, and giddiness my sweet, simple aunt must have felt as- a lifetime of prayers answered-she departed Room 209 and entered eternal life. I felt profoundly grateful to have been the recipient of her unconditional love, to have learned by her example to appreciate and nurture faith, family, and friendships; to have learned by her example to appreciate the simple.
I returned home with a bag for the Goodwill and a lighter heart. Basketball practice, hockey, and pie crusts topped the evening's agenda. Kids were laughing with cousins. They ran to share hugs and consolation as I entered the living room. Surrounded by youth, I wondered what my children, nieces and nephews might learn from my example. I have lived a different life than my aunt and uncles, but I hoped that their example would live on in mine. Appreciate and nurture faith, family, and friendships. Love unconditionally, and appreciate the simple. I have a lot of work to do.
Many of us will celebrate Thanksgiving, missing someone we love. Most will celebrate the harvest, the mayhem, the many blessings in our lives. I will give thanks for this new day; and for the moment of joy, comfort and insight I received when I encountered Death in Room 209 last evening.
He sent my dear aunt home, and reminded me
that young eyes I love are watching and learning, that every moment counts, and
that a life well lived is truly quite simple.
A blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours.
A blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours.
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