Sunday, December 1, 2013

I Was Wrong About The Hospice Pastor

Nana Angelina.
My godmother. My grandmother. My hope.

It was the end.
Amidst all the family dysfunction, I sat alone.
In the pew behind my boy and his uncle and cousins.

Everything looked beautiful.
And the pastor rose to speak.
I cringed inside, for the last time at my grandfather's funeral he praised him for his service to our country…but he had fought on the Italian side, not the States…a eulogy from a man he never knew.

I had sat with her the days before she passed.
Understanding everything that happened inside her body as it turned into a corpse.
My nana, my beloved nana, breathed her last in my presence, in Peace.

You can imagine my impatience with a man of the cloth, who had never seen this--my going with her through the tunnel of Light to see our Lord and Our Lady, and my Grandfather ( to comfort us.

I sat alone in my grief.
And he opened his mouth.
He knew her before she died, where she used to sit, outside Nurse Station Three.
And she smiled at him in greeting, every time.

I listened with interest as he described what she saw as she 'crossed over'.
It was right.
Except for my being present in Spirit to accompany her.

Even 'the appointment' Blessed Mother alluded to, the reason she 'had to go'
was explained by the pastor: Jesus took her to meet God.
My grief was not lost on this man--I could tell he knew how my life had been--
my entire existence as a part of this family; how I had lost my only comfort and hope.

He said 'memories are a connection between the deceased loved one in Heaven and our Hearts.'
Then, after asking permission from mother, took roses out from the spray on the casket for each member of the family.
He reminded us that every time we look at the flower in our home, we could remember it as nana's gift to us--and heal in our grief over her.

As he handed out the roses in the mausoleum, his hand moved with the familiar pill-rolling motion…
I knew his secret!
And the reason for his compassionate Love.
He suffers too.

Just like us.

And it is beautiful, the Heart that can reach past the suffering to console others in their loss.

I have had nightmares that woke me up screaming in the middle of the night ever since I was nine.
They were about the passing of nana.

I am okay.
Your prayers and Reiki helped immensely.
And she gave me the gift of her last breath.
Just like I gave her the gift of my presence in those last hours on earth,
and her first moments in Heaven.

Aloha and Mahalos,

Reiki Doc