A daily walk with... ME |
There is no movement or rustling of the bed covers. No words escape her mouth which is now gaped open by slack jaw muscles. The only sound is the steady, deep breaths which are reluctantly sucked in and forcibly released. Perhaps this will be her last, I think. On the few occasions she has the strength to partially raise her eyelids, there is only a glazed, unfocused film looking back at me. The pallid skin is stretched over a bony skull lacking expression, void of personality. My friend, my confidant, the gracious host, this elegant lady of song and dance and art, the life of the party is dying transitioning from this temporary, physical realm to her permanent, spiritual home. I have sat next to Loy’s hospital bed and, now, hospice bed for thirty-two days. I’ve watched the progressive deterioration of mind and body. Though this process is difficult to witness, I am comforted by the guidance of my new friend Raya Machupa, the spiritual director of the hospice. My belief of eternal life has been reinforced by the teachings of this wise lady who has spent her life studying and experiencing the mysteries of death. Raya has taught me to eliminate the word death from my vocabulary. For, you see, there really is no such thing as death. No one ever dies. You will not die. I will not die. Loy is not dying. The energy force, the essence that is the unique person of Loy is eternal. When her body finally fails to function, Loy will exist on a level of awareness beyond earthly description and knowledge. She will experience a euphoric freedom of limitless Love. Soon, Loy will be whole, complete—the ultimate masterpiece designed by God. I am excited for her, and I consider it a privilege and a gift to be allowed to witness this transition. |