Death on My Mind
Originally posted at The Way of the Rose 54-Day Novena Facebook group August 18, 2020
Novena Day 6
The Glorious Mysteries
As you know, if you’ve been reading my posts so far, August is my annual reminder of endings. My son died 18 years ago tomorrow, my marriage died 11 years ago tomorrow, and my ex died two years ago on the the 31st. It’s no wonder death is on my mind.
I’ve had a series of conversations with a neighbor who lives about a half-mile down the road. He’s seen me doing my walks along our creek and called out, “Nice day for a walk!” once. Then one day he slowed in his truck to warn me about the bear that’s been hitting his garbage cans from time to time. That was the day he asked me about the rosary beads in my hand. He has a set hanging from his rearview mirror and says the rosary every day.
Saturday, he stopped whacking his weeds to chat when I walked by. We had a long conversation about health concerns, flowers, and natural remedies. I told him I was afraid to use my weed whacker because of the two-stroke engine, gas-mixed-with-oil thing. I was sure I’d screw it up. He said he’d stop by after church and help with me with it.
The next day Carlos showed up in his shiny red truck with a Trump 2020 shirt on. He came with me to my shed and showed me how to work the weed whacker, gave me a series of instructions, and checked to make sure I remembered it.
I can’t remember what sparked it, but we got to talking about natural remedies as we got back to his truck, especially the ones our mothers and grandmothers pass down. He told me about how his mother straightened out his leg once after a very ill-advised adventure. But if you tell people you believe in that kind of intuitive knowledge, he said, they’ll make fun of you. I immediately thought of my post on the Scourging at the Pillar. I said it could even get you killed back in the days when people attributed women’s knowledge of herbs and healing to witchcraft and called it evil.
“I really wish she was here,” he said of his eerily intuitive mother, eyes tearing and voice choking. Wouldn’t you know she died in the same hospital my Zane did? That’s much more remarkable than it sounds; the hospital was in Brooklyn (it has since closed), and we live in a remote area several hours away.
He talked about visiting her in the hospital, knowing she was in pain, and telling her, “It’s okay, Mom. You can go now.”
I nodded ruefully. That’s exactly what I said to Zane (telepathically, as I wasn’t in the room with him) as he was dying.
When we parted, Carlos told me, “You know, you’re a really cool person.”
“You are, too,” I said.
This conversation wasn’t coincidental. If there’s one person in my immediate vicinity who would listen when Mama Mary tells him to chat, it’s Carlos. We immediately and instinctively liked each other, even though he presents as my polar opposite politically.
And we felt exactly the same way about our loved ones’ dying. We’d really rather it didn’t have to happen, but we know that none of us gets out of here alive. If it does have to happen, we want it to be gentle with loved ones nearby. Not in a cold, sterile hospital hooked up to IVs and monitors.
Death is one of the most important transitions in life. How we do it matters, not just to us, but to the people around us. Death inevitably involves loss, but it doesn’t have to involve trauma. When we love someone, we want to minimize trauma, whether it is we or they who are dying.
When my ex, Bill, was dying, he wanted to make sure our daughter would not be in the room when he transitioned because he thought that would be harder for her. The only problem with that was that she wanted to make sure she was in the room, so he wouldn’t have to die alone. O. Henry would have had a field day with that story.
There are two deaths in the rosary, the Crucifixion and the Assumption. These are radically different events. One is a violent assault and the other a peaceful transition. Mary goes to sleep and wakes up in heaven. There are lots of ways to view this mystery, but one way is that it is simply the very best way to die.
In this time of COVID, when so many are dying alone without loved ones by their side, Mama Mary wants us to ask ourselves, how do we want to die? How does the way we live affect the way we die, and vice-versa?
What life and death choices can we make that inch the planet toward healing and away from trauma?
