August 2, 2000 ~ Dying

Mothy, an on-line friend of mine, wrote in the chat room:

"Ever seen a dying person? The expressions on the face of an 80 year old seeing something new, like a child seeing a cartoon for the first time. Makes you think."

His comment got me thinking.

I met a woman who worked in a care home for the dying. She had some amazing stories.

She told me about an old woman who was the kindest, most compassionate woman she had ever met. When the old woman began to die, the lady I knew and one other nurse sat with the dying woman in her dim room.

After a time, she began to mutter. "Now who are all those people?" she said, looking about the room.

"I don't know," said the woman I knew. "Do you know them?"

The woman squinted into the air. After a moment she shook her head. "No. No, I don't know them."

"Well what are they like?"

"They seem awfully friendly."

After a while the old woman was no longer able to talk. Her time had come, and the woman I knew held her hand.

Suddenly she started to feel as if the room was very "full." She could not believe her eyes, but little sparkles of energy and light started to flicker in the room, hovering over the woman's dying body. The light sparkles were the most beautiful things she had ever seen... The old woman took her last breath, and the sparkles faded away.

She said that she would not have believed that the sparkles had actually been there, had it not been for the fact that the other nurse who was in the room had seen them as well.

It is because of stories like this that I do not fear death. I believe the story, the woman who told it to me is a very trustworthy person. She was embarrassed to tell it, in fact. She didn't think I would believe her, and she had not told many people before me. But the look on her face told me that the death of that old woman had changed her life.

She said that the dying are in between this world and the spiritual plane. They can see things that we cannot. She also said that she has never witnessed a dying person being terrified of what they "saw."

She told me that the dying will often attempt to reach out to or grab the things that they see. To us, it looks as if they are picking at the air. She has asked them before what they are picking.

When my grandfather neared death, he sometimes did something much like this. There were days when he was really out of it, and hardly even acknowledged our presence. He would have a glazed over expression on his face and was not merely looking through us, but was looking at something that was not even of this world, something spiritual, something we could not possibly see that he seemed to be... closer to, I guess. He was not merely caught up in his own thoughts like so many people are when they say, "oh, sorry, I was out of it/zoning/dazed/daydreaming." No, his expression was different than that. He was somewhere else, almost drifting into another realm, you could see it in his face and his eyes.

It looked as if he was picking berries out of the air. Once he did this and turned to me with an earnest look and said "I got one." His hands were empty, but his eyes were convinced. My grandfather had very few lucid moments those last months, but I swear that he knew exactly what he was talking about when he said that. His eyes were clear and had a purpose. My mother was confused about what he was saying, and she said that maybe he was remembering his work in his gardens, picking the berries. Perhaps he was caught up in the past. It wasn't until I talked to that woman who worked in a home that I realized that maybe at that moment he was more in the present than anyone else in that room.

Shortly after I learned what it was to have faith, I had a very moving dream. I dreamed that I was sitting next to grandpa as he had been before his sickness, and there were tears in his eyes... I could see his eyes so vividly... then he had touched me on the shoulder and I could feel what he wanted to communicate to me. It went beyond words. It was pure experience, emotion, and thought, and I knew it instantly, with the look in his eyes. His tears were tears of joy. I knew intuitively that he was overjoyed that I had found faith and had awakened, spirituality... He told me he loved me and that he was so very happy that I had found my way in the dark, and then I woke up. I cannot even begin to describe the peace that surrounded me after that dream. It was more than just a dream. I knew at that point that grandpa was okay, at peace, and happy. I also felt as if my newfound faith was sealed and more real.

There is something beyond this life. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I know that it does not scare me.

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