Reflecting on the Blessing of Death

Raymond John Schneider
1917-1985

During my morning prayer time, I reflected on death. Today is the 38th anniversary of my dad's passing into eternal life. We had just sent my mom off with my aunt and uncle to have dinner. She had hardly left the house during my dad's final battle with terminal cancer and we thought she needed to get away for even a few minutes respite. Daddy died almost immediately after they left, but we decided not to call right away. Let her have a quiet dinner.

They say the dying often wait until their nearest and dearest leave before giving up the ghost. That's what my dad did. It was my sister and I who were with him. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed resting his head on the mattress. We were gently rubbing his back and chatting quietly when I realized that he didn't seem to be breathing. We lifted him and already the blood was pooling at the pressure spot on his forehead. We got him back into bed, called the hospice nurse who came quickly and helped arrange his body, and gathered my local siblings to pray the rosary. Daddy had been anointed and I can't remember now whether the parish priest was with us or not. I'm inclined to think he was. When Mom returned we were all there to offer comfort in her great grief.