It is cold today, the wind is blowing straight out of the North, an occasional snow-flake flys in the air. It is late November and for some reason every year the song "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart enters my head and won't leave. Change out "it's late September" with late November, there is something I've gotta say to you and there is someplace I'm supposed to be. For me this is the season of Good-byes.Then there is this: This fall my brother Steve retired after a successful 32 year career in Law Enforcement. At Steve's retirement party, in late August hosted by the city in which he worked, I was fortunate to be a speaker. There are two excerpts from my talk that day that I would like to share with you. The first is as follows:
"I don't think it would be an exaggeration to call my brother Steve a private man. Possibly even reclusive. It is interesting that he chose a career that is so very public. Steve was born to be a police officer. He is the best of what the profession should be. I am not sure anyone has a purer sense of right and wrong. He may be one of the least confrontational people I know and the first person I would want covering my back if the chips were down. As Steve's family, we could not be more proud. He has made it possible for 12 nieces and nephews and 8 great nieces and nephews to have no fear of Policemen. To all of them, he is simply Uncle Steve." (end of speech)
My brother approached his chosen field with compassion and kindness. He worked in one of the toughest suburbs of the Metro area and I don't believe he ever felt he was better than the citizens he swore to protect. He was a top notch Officer, member of S.W.A.T. and "Top-Gun Award winner 2007. Two years ago as I traveled cross-country with him he brought up the idea of possible retirement. He said he was thinking it was time. He felt he had been lucky. In 32 years he had not had to draw his weapon and end a life nor had he been physically harmed. He was beginning the process of saying good-bye.
This is what I know: On November 9th I sat at the kitchen table of my oldest brother Mike and silently witnessed as he signed himself into Hospice care.My Oldest brother is also a private man. Possibly even reclusive. He has a pure sense of right and wrong and he is one of the least confrontational people I know. He has led a quiet life and a physically hard life. He will be the first to tell you in the department of good health....he drew the short straw. When the chips have been down in my life, he has covered my back. He is the best of what a person should be. He is a lover of Computers and hunting, fishing and four-wheeling. One of his favorite songs is "It's a Heartache" not the original version, the cover version by Dave Rowland and Sugar. He has loyaly loved one woman for over 30 years. He is brave. He is making it possible, along with his nephew Mike for 9 nieces and nephews and 8 great nieces and nephews to have no fear of death. To them he is simply Great Uncle Mike.
I ran into someone Sunday night that at one time was married into my extended family. He knows my brother Mike and as I was telling him family news, Hospice Care entered the conversation. This man said he had knowledge of Hospice and he harshly and without feeling asked me this "Is he ready to die? Because Hospice doesn't work if your not ready to die."
The Clinical definition of Hospice is a life expectancy of six months or less. My brother beat those odds the day he was born. He was a 2 pound baby in 1952 when babies that small were almost never saved.
I would argue this: Hospice is not the death sentence, birth is the death sentence. Everything in-between is "What will be.... will be."
In my career as a nurse I worked several years in Nursing Home Care. I have held the hands of many people as they have taken their last breath. In those final months, weeks, days, minutes and seconds it was never about were they ready to die as much as reaching the point within them that they were no longer willing to live. Nursing Home Care then was to some extent what Hospice Care is now, the chance to slow your life and just be. There is a quote that says"The Whole of Life is the process of letting go. The mistake is not stopping to say Good-bye." So I would answer the man above with this: I don't know if my brother is ready to die but I do know, he is still willing to live.
The last part of my speech to Steve at his retirement party now follows, but I would also like to dedicate it to my brother Mike:
I would like to speak for my Son Mike to Steve (and Mike) on this very special day. Mike would want you to know this:
"The trail ahead of you is clear. I have marked it well. I checked through and got ahead of you on the course. Much of what I learned about riding the hard line, you taught me. I learned the lessons well. Stay hydrated, change out your runners when you need to. If the road forks use your instincts, you have some of the best. Don't be afraid to call the dogs up when you reach a mountain you can't climb. Never forget to light your pipe and ride the runners backwards; you don't want to miss it, it's a hell of a view. For the first time in your life, seek the Red Lantern Award. When you come to the final checkpoint, you have my word, I'll be there. I'll grab your leaders, sign you in and show you the way home. I'm counting on you to "Someday chase the kid" just don't be in too much of a hurry, I'll wait for you. Until that day "Happy Trails", you are so loved."
In the book Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver there is a paragraph that says:
"What would you do if someone you loved was dying?"
" Whatever it takes. You do everything you can and then I guess, everything you can't. You keep doing, so your heart won't stop."
"The Whole of Life is the process of letting go, the mistake is not stopping to say Goodbye"
till next time.
