At wit’s end

There may be more PC (politically correct) ways to say this, but this is what I’m feeling. In many cases, I believe being PC dumbs down a topic or doesn’t give the people involved the respect they deserve. These people and this topic deserve my respect.

My aunt (my birthmother’s sister) is dying. We don’t know when or how it will happen, but her battle with cancer is no longer going well. This is HUGELY sad on all levels. She is married with two children in their twenties - one is 20 years old and attending college.

My father’s cousin (my first cousin once removed) is dying. Again, we don’t know when or how it will happen, but her battle with cancer is no longer going well. This, too, is HUGELY sad on all levels. She is married with three children and a new grandchild.

If you’re the praying sort (or however you connect with Spirit), please pray for the highest and best for all involved. Obviously, no one knows what this looks like in either case. All thoughts and prayers are welcome…whatever they look like.

Dying happens. When my father was dying, I read two books that impacted me greatly – Dying Well by Ira Byock and Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. Each book gave me amazing gifts around making peace with the process of dying.

Reading about dying led me to more understanding around dying. Reading these books brought me some comfort. Someone was talking/writing about what I was feeling. I’m guessing we’ve all experienced that feeling of relating – someone gets me.

What did I come away with? Dying is an experience. It’s a personal experience. It’s a very personal experience which very few people can talk about or discuss openly. It’s a hard topic. No ifs, ands or buts about it. It’s HUGELY emotional and affects everyone differently.

I’m not here to tell anyone what kind of experience they should have. That would be ludicrous. Each experience is going to be unique on all sides of the process. I am, however, calling people (mostly myself) to approach the topic with courage, compassion and consciousness.

I want to reach out to my family, offer them my heart and ask them what they’re feeling. How can I support them? What can I do? Even if you don’t know what I can do, what might it look like? Then I think, “Is this for me or for them?” What is my motivation? My comfort or theirs?

In a nutshell, I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. I’m afraid it will be about me. I’m afraid I won’t have anything to add. I’m afraid. And then I take a deep breath and remember when my father was dying in Hospice back in 1998-1999.

When my father was dying, I didn’t know what to ask for…in terms of support. What could someone possibly have done? Nothing to change the outcome, that’s for sure. However, the dying process isn’t about the outcome. It’s about the experience. I might not have understood this then. I get it now.

I experienced people reaching out to me, my family and my father in ways I could not have imagined. People gave of their time, effort and lives to create a rich dying experience for my father and for all of us. People showed their truest colors – the colors of greatness that exists within us all.

This, I’m finding, is my call to me. Let me show my truest of colors. Let me show my greatness to those I love…whatever it looks like. Let me, together with others, help create a dying experience rich with love, humilty, compassion and understanding.

This is about my family. It’s not about me. And, I have gifts I can offer my family. If they are open to these gifts, we can share in them together. If not, so be it. I will make peace with this and I won’t ask, “What if?” later.

Well, I think I wrote this one for myself. I needed my own pep talk. Thanks for reading and continuing to check in.

With love,
Gregory