When someone we know is nearing death, how do we help them die with dignity? How do we help the family navigate the medical desire to preserve life at all cost? How can we prepare to die with dignity?
I used to think that I was pretty good at simply being present with those grieving the loss of a loved one. I used to think I could empathize and be understanding. And, then my own father died and I realized that I had not had a clue. My big sister deals with patients dying on almost a daily basis and I remember sitting next to her on a pew, both of us crying as we awaited the deluge of mourners who would come through to pay their respects. My big sister, whom I have rarely seen cry by the way, just wept and said, “I don’t know how to do this.”
We clergy think we know how to do this, but when it hits home it becomes abundantly clear that none of us really know how to handle this whole death thing. My deep theological belief about death is that it sucks. Can you print that in the newspaper? This seminary trained pastor and chaplain can’t think of any eloquent way to describe it. It simply sucks.
It took my daddy dying for me to understand this down to my very bones. I like to think it has made me a better pastor to those who are grieving or who are trying to make tough decisions about loved ones who are near death. So, the best I know to do is share our story.
On the day that my father was told he had cancer and that it was terminal, my two sisters, brother, and mother were all standing there around his bed with him. We cried, my dad made some kind of joke, we laughed, the doctor and nurse weren’t quite sure what to do with us, and we proceeded to have one of the best afternoons and evenings that my family has ever experienced. We did what we do best. We ate. We ate and sat around the table laughing, joking, crying, and planning my father’s funeral while he was still with us to tell us what he would like for it to be.
A week later he was dead. He died in a hospital room alone with my mother. I think if we had known it was going to happen so quickly, he would have just stayed at home. But, the rate at which he deteriorated during that week was incredible and his pain became so much that everyone was hoping the hospital stay could help. After one radiation treatment, I believe my father had had enough. In his own way, he said his goodbyes to me and my siblings – though we did not know it at the time. And, the next morning, my mother said a prayer for him in which she grieved, but said, “God, I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want him to suffer.” Dad said, “Thank you, Honey.” And, within half an hour he was dead.
Other than the fact that had we known we would have kept him at home, there isn’t anything that any of us would change. I believe that my father made choices about his death and died with as much dignity as he had lived. We were lucky that he was in condition to do so. I do know that this is not always the case. I would do just about anything if I could have him back, physically present with us, but there are a lot of things that are worse than death. Even so, it sucks. So, we best be doing all we can to help the dying be ushered into eternity in as holy way as possible.
