So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10
On April 8, the doctor, his team, and I decided to end cancer treatment. No more chemo, no more procedures, no more tests. It took a minute for the whole thing to register after he told me what was coming next. I looked at him and said, “So, we’re talking end-of-life here?” (because I’m quick on the uptake that way).
He replied in the affirmative and when I turned to his case manager, a wonderful young woman that I love, she smiled and reached for my hand.
“Well, okay then. Help me understand next steps.”
She walked me through the next steps – mostly contacting a local hospice caregiving company.
Actually, she took care of the contact and everything else. The next day, I had another wonderful young woman here at the house ready to explain the entire process.
The wonderful part about living the life I’ve lived is that I’ve been ready for this for decades. Not actively preparing for death, but ready for whatever it is that God has prepared for me.
In 1987, my mother died – complications from breast cancer. The night she told us that she had less than two weeks and would be going into the hospital the next day was difficult, but from that point forward, it was time to prepare, and it was a time to share the love we had for each other.
Because Mom was a pastor’s wife, she didn’t want to share her death and dying with the members of Dad’s congregation. Here’s one reason why (don’t do this to anyone – ever!).
A woman came to visit Mom right away. She had decided that Mom was supposed to live, and went after Mom’s faith before asking questions or offering comfort – telling Mom that if she had faith as small as a mustard seed, she would be healed and continue to live. Mom obviously had a hidden sin (OMG, right?) that was stopping her from receiving full healing from God – hence, she was dying. Mom informed the woman that ultimate healing would bring Mom before the throne of God – not keep her on earth. Well, the woman stalked out and Mom decided she wasn’t going to put up with people spewing their ugly personal beliefs at her when she and God had a pretty amazing relationship.
But that was only a small part of Mom’s death and dying experience. She spent the next week and a half with her family. She didn’t want to talk about anything except how much she loved us and how she was unafraid of what was to come.
One day after work, I climbed into her bed at the hospital and wrapped my arms around her (actually, that happened a lot with us). I asked if she was afraid of what came next. She didn’t have to think about her answer. It came in two parts. First, if there was nothing that came next, she wouldn’t know. It was unimportant. However, and this is what she believed, the better answer was that she would be in heaven the moment her spirit left her body.
Side story: My mother died at two o’clock in the morning. After clearing out her room, Carol, Dad, and I went back to the house and fell asleep in the living room. Dad got up about five to start making phone calls. The first was to his sister. What he didn’t realize was that she had begged Mom to let her know if there was something to look forward to on the other side. Mom had told her she would try. When my aunt answered the phone, she said, “Margie died about two o’clock.” Dad told her that yes, that was true, but how did she know? Well, apparently, Mom tugged on my aunt’s big toe and woke her, giving comfort and peace to a woman who was terrified of the unknown.
Mom’s pragmatism and infinite faith gave me strength and understanding through my grief. That gift is showing itself in my own life right now. I am not afraid to die – in fact, I anticipate all that it will bring. Eternity is a vastness I can’t comprehend, but soon … I will. (For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. – 1 Corinthians 13:12)
I told my sister that I would get to see Mom before she does, but truth be told, Paul tells us it will all happen in the blink of an eye, so no one will miss out (In a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 1 Corinthians 15:52).
I’ve also told my sister that I would really like her to be right there as I’m dying because if I am able, I want to talk about what I’m seeing and hearing on my way out. She thinks that is a wonderful idea.
Please understand, I am not afraid. And I want to share this amazing experience so that someday, when my family and friends face it, they know there is nothing to fear. God has walked with me throughout my life (even when I didn’t want to acknowledge it), he has held on to me when terrible news came my way, and he is beside me now, ensuring that I know how much he loves me.
– Am I open to physical healing because of prayer? Absolutely. But more than that, I want to be part of God’s plan on earth. Whatever it is that he has for me, I will embrace it.
– How long do I really have left? We have no idea. I sleep a lot (A LOT). My hospice nurse tells me that I’m doing well and is satisfied with being here once a week right now. So … we’ll see.
– Book 48? I have no idea. If I finish that thing, it will be truncated, but trust me, you will be happy with how I leave Polly’s stories. I’ve already started the epilog. Should the book remain unfinished, that epilog will be published to the website (nammynools.com). I need time and I need to be alert enough and cogent enough to type words into my computer. Sometimes, transitioning from doing nothing to doing anything is a problem. It takes so much energy.
– Visitors? I’m not quite as solitary as my mother was, but the most important people to me right now are my family and close friends. I wear out in a hurry. Don’t be offended if I say no.
– Notes, messages, gifts, comments, etc., etc. Thank you. These mean the world to me. More than I can express. But I won’t guarantee a response – whether email, private messaging, or in a comment. That whole ‘wearing out in a hurry’ is overwhelming. Most days I simply ignore responding because it’s too exhausting.
– Pray and send love and hugs. Miracles come in all shapes and sizes. We’ve all heard that God isn’t a vending machine, handing out the miracles we might be looking for, but he is the God of love, and resting in the palm of his hand while dealing with everything is more than I could have ever hoped for. I am so grateful.
