grief
The sun was bright that chilly winter day just a couple of weeks ago as we chatted about the blessings of Christmas and all the ornaments that visitors had placed on his tall and slender tree. He asked if I would read to him from the book I had published a few months ago. As I completed what was intended as a daily devotional reflecting on a life occurrence, he would smile and say, “that was beautiful”. We shared together a few more “devotions” before I suggested we save some more for later. He said, “your words paint such a beautiful portrait of life at that moment.” All I could say was “thank you”, that’s encouraging. I visited him just one more time before the Christmas celebration that we all enjoy so much. The customary Friday visit around noon yesterday was postponed because he was not feeling well. ALS had taken a heavy toll on this masterfully talented man who is so respected by so many and music maestro to many more. As I woke early this morning and took my “awakening” position in the recliner, Gary came to my mind and I whispered words of thankfulness for his friendship and asked that God grant him peace and renewal. Around 10:00 am I received the call that my friend had passed away overnight. Grief engulfed my being as I held the sobs until after the call. The sobs were expressions of both loss and gratitude. I felt a deep sense of loss of a wonderful friend and at the same time tremendous joy at the freedom he now enjoys, having escaped the earthly shackles of this debilitating disease that kept him captive. I have only known him for a couple of years, making weekly visits to share reflections of life’s experiences and to encourage him along his journey. Others who have known him for seemingly a lifetime must truly feel the loss more deeply than I. I am so very thankful for the opportunity to meet, to share memories with, and to be enriched by this wonderful human known as Gary Ferguson. Thank you, God, and thank you Gary. I’m sure you both are rejoicing in the other!
He called to see if I was going to be at home. He said he wanted to drop by for a few minutes and “catch up” on a few things. As I saw his car approaching along the driveway, I went to the door to greet the brother of my best friend from high school. Somewhat stooped and looking a bit stressed, he slowly made it from his car to the porch where we greeted one another. I invited him in but he said he would prefer the fresh spring air as we sat on the north facing porch. “So how have you been”, I asked. “Well,” he said, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He told me he had just been diagnosed with late stage lung cancer that appeared to be spreading to other organs. He was very matter of fact and seemed clear headed that he was going to try some chemo and possible radiation therapy, but that the doctor didn’t expect he would make it for another year. I was somewhat lost for words (unusual for me)! Then he said; “I’d like for you to do my memorial service. “Of course,” I responded; “I would be honored to do that.” We shared a mutual cousin who had passed away a couple of years before, and I had done her graveside service as well. His tone was very matter of fact as he shared with me his intention of extending his life as long as possible, but that he had also made friends with the fact that “death is simply a part of life.” We chatted about numerous things before he warmly said goodbye and crawled back in his car to head home. That was well over a year ago and he and we have been blessed with frequent contact and encouragement along his journey. His pain is great and his resolve and faith are each more solid than the day of his pronouncement. Grief stands to remind us of the joys and blessings that we have and do receive along this wonderful journey called life. Rather than being an emotion to avoid, I have learned to embrace those moments of grief as reminders (both tender and harsh) that when spread on the surface of gratitude, becomes a place of quiet comfort. Thanks for the warm embrace of life as you ponder all for which you are grateful!
Flipping an omelet was a simple task. Turning from side to side in the bed was once a thoughtless maneuver. Putting on pants while standing was second nature and required no thought or attention. Hopping from the chair to attend to a recalled task was a snap. Flicking a light switch was accomplished with lightening speed. Turning quickly because you remembered something in the other direction required no attention to the process of turning around. “Past” is the tense in each of the previous statements. So many things this “whipper-snapper” took for granted have become the thief demanding attention where no attention was before required. This stranger called Parkinson’s disease has decided to take up residence. His presence is unwelcomed and he was uninvited. His intrusiveness is fuel for my anger at times and a reminder of my grief at what has been lost. I reflect on life before his invasion and though saddened at times by loss I cannot help but be thankful that those years of freedom were given. Today the struggle is not as much with the resistance to movement or the slowness to respond to my every whim, but rather with the integration of what is today, with the memory of what used to be. Each day now becomes a new opportunity to exercise what remains. Placing grief at the feet of thankfulness helps create a path forward with the legs of gratitude.
The rising sun was a faint glow peeking through the trees on the eastern horizon and the moon sparkled brightly in the western sky as the pup engaged her early morning run. Still cool, the crisp morning sparked thoughts of the previous day’s shocking news. Flooded with memories of her always welcoming smile and her effervescing personality, my mind went immediately to sadness at the loss of this dear friend to cancer. The grief that overwhelmed the day before came rushing back like a raging torrent. I recalled the loss of another dear friend just the year before and the passing of a beloved cousin and suddenly the sparkling morning was blurred by a river of tears. Along with the stream of tears began to emerge thoughts of gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to have known such inspiring and loving people began to occupy my mind. As I uttered words of thankfulness my mind swelled with the joy that comes only in the presence of heartfelt appreciation for having experienced these dear ones in my life. I looked down and the pup was sitting in front of me gazing up as if to say “we can go back inside now.” Grief, Parkinson’s concerns and morning haze began to fade away in the glow of gratitude that came to reside in my thoughts that hour. The two (grief and Parkinson’s) have not departed but they now occupy a smaller space engulfed in the embrace of gratitude. Gratitude is a guest whose welcome is never over stayed. Perhaps it is among the grandest of companions!
A change in weather is predicted over the next few days with highs near seventy rather than the ninety degree temperatures we have been experiencing. This will be a welcomed change. Not all change is greeted with such enthusiasm. A dear friend recently left for an eternity in the arms of God. A loved cousin is battling multiples of ailments now as she patiently endures the caretaking at the local medical center. Producing my signature is an undertaking that previously required little thinking but now requires full attention to range of motion. Too much concentration on any one thing renders a trembling right hand that I’ve grown accustomed to humorously slapping back to attention. Sometimes change means loss and at other times change means to gain. Whether loss or gain change is a condition of life. Sometimes that change is met with grief and at other times it is met with joy. Gratitude for the journey is the fuel that propels the engine of faith that sustains us through the grief and lifts us in the joy. The charge given by the Apostle Paul to the believers in Thessalonica is wise; “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)
A flick of the wrist and a twist of the nimble fingers and the bottle cap zipped off. An agile hand mindlessly poured the beverage over freshly drawn ice in the glass. A quick perfunctory prayer and knife and fork were at work cutting through the cooked meat then scooping the eggs so nimbly prepared into the waiting orifice. All of this was taking place without thought or care about the individual movements along the way. The day’s agenda lay ahead and the consumption of the food was only a minor pebble over which to travel this day. Suddenly, it seems, without warning, movements considered nimble, agile, flexible and thoughtless gave way to slow, rigid, intentional and attention demanding. Accommodation has to be made for the loss of nimble. Suddenly the impatient recipient of diminished dopamine is forced to address otherwise thoughtless acts with time and intention never anticipated as a part of one’s routine. A challenge never anticipated now unfolds. Does one approach these newly discovered boundaries with the fighting spirit to conquer and overcome, aggressively battling each and every movement that seems to impede? Or does one surrender to the inevitably progressive limitations and huddle in one’s own puddle of pity while silently sulking over the loss? Perhaps there is a more helpful way to address the issue? Some would term it as “making friends” with the reality of change brought on by this series of symptoms called PD. Before fully understanding this new friendship, one must grieve the loss of the old friend who was taken for granted.
Trees, pastures and homes of childhood friends whisked by as the trusted Jeep and I were bound for morning errands. News on the radio flashed from the unimaginable devastation in the Philippines and the tragic loss of life there to the petty chaos erupting in a Toronto town council meeting over a drug using and defensive Mayor to then a congressional hearing that in effect provides a grandstand for political showmanship. The news anchor moved from one to the other as though each was as significant as the other. I was taken by the cavalier way in which loss of life was weighted equally to self indulgent egomaniacal posturing by political pundits. A swift poke at the power button on the radio left me with my thoughts and road noise as welcomed companions. The tears and sobs of the man who had lost his wife and two children as he held tightly to his one remaining daughter and shouted “how could this happen?” echoed as I arrived at my first destination. The answer to the man’s question is easily answered with meteorological facts that explain the formation and execution of major storms. The question the man was asking, however, was more personal than the meteorological response. His question was about his personal loss, the lost lives of his wife and children; why them, why me, why now? Although the previous response gives reasons for nature’s climatic forces, it is not sufficient to address the human element of grief and loss of that which we so routinely take for granted. Exacerbating the loss of life for many is the additional loss of home, food, and water for drinking. Those of us who have not been directly impacted by nature’s fury this time may feel “called” to aid those desperate for relief. May you act on your call and under gird that act and all others with prayers for peaceful hearts and relief from grief and sorrow.