Last Updated on August 3, 2013
Death is probably the toughest thing to process. Witnessing the dying process of someone you care about takes up so much energy, there’s not much left for anything more than what’s absolutely necessary.
A good friend lost her fight with cancer last month, and I found myself thinking a lot about life and death; I also thought a lot about my father’s battle with cancer, which ended with his death five years ago. In both of those situations, there was a day when they knew they were going to die. You could hear the acceptance in their voices; you could see the resignation in their actions. I think dying is a very intuitive process. Those who are in tune with their bodies and their spirits just know that the time is near.
Both my dad and my friend talked about dreams they had of others who had passed before them; both talked of a different state of awareness at times during their final days. A great book that helped me understand that process when I was going through it with my dad was Final Gifts: Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying
It was written by two hospice workers and it talks about that different state of awareness when a person is literally living between two worlds. It reassured me that he would be ok going through the dying process and afterward.
I did honor my feelings of sadness last month and this month. I didn’t feel much like blogging, so I didn’t. Now I do, so I am. I guess that’s what living intuitively is about.
Wow, this is indeed a timely topic as I have a friend who is actively dying. Some pretty amazing things happened around the time my mother died, which I’ve touched on briefly in some of my posts. I got to be very close with the palliative care physician who was taking care of my mother. We met for dinner a month or so after my mom’s death and she told me that she’s convinced people choose the moment of their death. Some people wait for loved ones to be here, others for them to leave the room. I found holding my mother at the moment she took her last breath profoundly spiritual. It felt as if her spirit expanded out like some kind of light and enveloped us both in this amazing moment of love.
Thanks for sharing Kathleen. I agree the actual moment of death is extremely peaceful. I never thought about people choosing the actual moment of death. That’s a fascinating thought.
This is something. I held my father as he took his last breath July 19, 2009. It’s still very hard, but finding posts like these is always a blessing.
Karen
Tamara,
thanks for this post. When my dad died I was in touch with much of what you are talking about. there is no doubt that we are beings with a spirit.
Nicole Cutts
http://www.cuttsconsulting.com/wp/