A
Good Death
by Kristen Poeraatmadja
So,
the other night I had the sheer privilege of being with a client as
they died. The
woman was young, had lost a lot of weight, most of her hair, very
frail looking. Her
sister promised her that she would remain by her side until the end.
Enter
me.
Why
was I there?
I
was there to listen. Just to listen.
So
I sat.
I
listened.
I
watched.
I
listened with my whole heart.
I
watched with my eyes and my inner sight.
As
the death progressed I noticed that the patient kept "coming
back".
What
did this mean?
There
were longer gaps between her breaths.
The
death rattle was there in all its glory.
Some
involuntary movements.
Her
body had "cleansed" itself twice.
But
watching, what I noticed was that each time her sister spoke, each
time her sister rubbed her arms, the patient would take a deep
breath.
Even
though her sister was giving her permission to leave, even though her
sister was saying she loved her, even though her sister was walking
down memory lane, even though all the right things were being said,
it was too much. Each word spoken, each touch brought the patient
back, like a kite being pulled down from the windy sky.
So
more time passed.
The
wonderful nurses came in and administered the next dose of morphine.
At
that point I said "Let's move another chair in here. You sit in
the recliner. You put your feet up. You must be exhausted. I want you
to close your eyes and rest for a few minutes. Just rest."
The
sister said in a laughing tone "You know, as soon as I do that,
she'll pass. She always plays tricks on me like that."
I
said "She may. But I'll watch and I'll not take my eyes off of
her. I promise. Now rest."
So
she did. She closed her eyes and she rested. She was peaceful.
Within
no more than 5 minutes her sister did in fact die. Peacefully. No
gasping breaths. No twitching. No drama. Just drifted off. I watched
her go. I waited 1 minute. I waited 2 minutes. Then I gently nudged
her sister on the shoulder.
She
opened up her eyes and looked like a deer in headlights, eyes glazed
over. I
quickly but gently said "Tell me what you see...right now...tell
me what you see". She
goes "Right before you tapped me on the shoulder, it was like
someone shinned a flashlight onto my eyes. Then I saw her face. She
was beautiful. Her eyes were big and bright. She was smiling. All her
hair had grown back and was flowing. Right behind her were 2 or 3
angels". Then you tapped me.
Then
it hit her, and then she started to cry.
Then
she went "I wasn't there when she died. I wasn’t with her.”
Gently
I took her hand and turned her towards me. "If you'd not been
asleep and resting then you wouldn't have seen what you saw. That was
her final gift to you. It was all she could give. I believe that she
was hanging on for you. She wanted to make sure that you were fully
resting and at peace. That you too were ready to let go."
Then
she understood and went "you think so?"
I
said "I know so".
Then
I hugged her and she let go. She felt the warmth, the magic, the
unconditional love. For that moment and I believe from then on, she
was and will continue to be, truly at peace.
She
goes "She looked beautiful Kristen. And now she knows I wasn't
lying. She's free now. No more pain, no more suffering. She's free
and she's beautiful"
As
we looked at her sister, the mottling went away; the blue and grey
went away. Her skin changed back to porcelain, peachy undertones. Not
a wrinkle to be found. She was beautiful once again.
It's
all about listening, truly listening with your heart and your soul.
Sure it hurts. It hurts alot. Sure it affects you, how could it not.
Death can be an amazing gift. An opportunity to learn, to grow and to
love unconditionally. With each experience, you take something with
you, something that becomes part of you, something you will carry
with you forever.
