You know not the day or the hour... Be Prepared

Rest in Peace, Jeanne

Today's post is an invitation to think about the four last things: death, judgment, heaven or hell. Where are you headed?

My sister died yesterday morning. She was declining for a long time, but there was no indication that death was imminent. When the phone rang at 6:30 a.m. I thought it might be one of the multiple fishing calls I get with an agent wanting to talk about my back pain, diabetes, knee problems, ulcers, take your pick. 

"Wow! Somebody decided to call really early," I thought." Odd to go there because when the phone rings at unexpected times, I usually immediately think of my sister. That shows how unexpected her death was.

Picking up the phone, I did not expect to hear a voice telling me Jeanne had died. We were going to visit; how could she be dead? I generally talk to her every day, but her phone had been off for a few days. "Darn! She forgot to put it on the charger again!" 

Jeanne hated the nursing home food and always asked me to bring things, so I had a bag of goodies: bananas, crackers, grape juice, frosted mini wheats ready to go,...sort of like Red Riding Hood going to see her grandmother.

When I checked with the staff an hour later to ask how long the nursing home gives us to clean out her room, they told me 48 hours. Panic time! It turned out that was inaccurate, but we only learned that later. So off Larry and I went to Frederick to meet my sister Laura -- not for a visit with my two sisters sadly, but to strip bare Jeanne's last home.

The wound nurse, Amy, came in to speak to us. She visited Jeanne the day before and talked about how cheerful she was (which wasn't always the case). "I know you, you're the wound nurse!" Jeanne said in greeting. Amy was one of her favorites, very kind and helpful. "Just don't touch my foot," Jeanne would tell her. It was always a blessing when our weekly visit coincided with Amy's check-up. 

Jeanne suffered a lot in this last year, so in many ways her death was a blessing, a release from pain. When she was having a dark day she would tell me to get a gun and shoot her. Every time she moved or the staff changed her she cried out in pain, but she refused any pain meds. I kept urging her to take something, but she wouldn't. In fact, she had been refusing all her meds for the past year. I was her power of attorney, but only overruled her once about going to the hospital. I never did it again. She didn't want to be stuck anymore so she stopped doing sugar checks for her diabetes. She didn't want to go to the hospital because she knew they'd give her an IV. And so we moved into comfort care. But she was like the energizer bunny. Despite everything she kept on going.

The end of life is challenging. I was with both my dad and my mom when they died and with my husband's dad. All three deaths were somewhat lingering. My mom lived with us the last four months of her life as she dealt with terminal cancer. One day she asked me, "Why is it so hard to die?" I couldn't tell her, except for wondering if we cling tenaciously to this life because it's all we know by experience. Even when we are confident that victory is just past the finish line if we've lived a life according to God's will, it's still painful to leave loved ones behind. There's such a temptation to stop and look back, to hug that grandbaby one more time, or watch one last soccer game or eat one more chocolate chip cookie.

Jeanne spent many years serving others. She was a volunteer secretary for St. Francis Catholic Church in Brunswick, MD for many years.  She taught religious education to the parish youngsters who loved her! She volunteered with the Catholic Daughters of the Americas. She also belonged to the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) serving in many rolls including president. She was also a member of the Ladies Auxiliary that volunteered at the nursing home where she ended up living. She wrote hundreds of letters to friends and family over the years including her many nieces and nephews and she always tucked in a little gift on birthdays. 

Please pray for my sister and the happy repose of her soul. She had all that the Church could give her in the months before she died. My pastor came to see her twice, heard her confessions, and administered the Last Rites. Oh...and he brought her ice cream and he and two young seminarians helped to eat it! How can Jeanne not be resting in the peace of Christ even if she's in the waiting room we call Purgatory. 

Please pray for my sister Jeanne and for all the family some of whom no longer practice the faith. Funerals are opportunities. May we all take my sister's death as a reminder to be prepared because "dust thou art, to dust returnest, was not spoken of the soul." And the soul needs caretaking because "the grave is not the goal!"

A Psalm of Life

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

   Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

   And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

   And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

   Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

   Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

   And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

   Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,

   In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

   Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

   Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,— act in the living Present!

   Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

   We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

   Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

   Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

   Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

   With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

   Learn to labor and to wait.