Posts tagged death and dying

The Day a Dear Friend Helped Me Fill Out the Mortuary Forms

It was March 23, 2010, just seven days before Kenny passed into Spirit, when Kevin and I sat together in the small seminar room, the most ornate and timeless room in the house. Originally the family dining room, replete with cherubs, soldier-like figures, rams’ heads, swans, and fruits and vegetables emblazoned in every media; carved gold-gilt walnut, cast polychrome cornicing, oils on canvas, and hammered brass, this room is now appreciated by many ministers and students of the Mystical Traveler in classes and meetings.

This time, the cherubs and soldiers and all the rest watched over us as we combed through the mortuary forms indicating what I wanted done with Kenny’s “remains.” Remains? How cold and unfeeling, that word, “remains.” He was still with us! And here I was filling out forms for when he was dead.

Two weeks had passed since my beloved husband decided to go on hospice care. Some people, I hear, last quite a long time on hospice. Some even get better. But we knew Kenny’s days were numbered because he would have to stop receiving blood transfusions on hospice and without blood transfusions, he would get weaker each day until there was no more energy to breathe. And so it was, just nineteen days after his last transfusion, on March 30th, he breathed his last breath surrounded by loved ones and welcomed by a chorus of angels and family that had gone before him to usher him into the Realms of the Divine.

But there he was down the hall still receiving visitors with enthusiasm, still smiling his forever smile, and still eating his favorite foods like Hawaiian Lau Lau, Lomi Salmon, and Chicken Long Rice from the Aloha Café with Haupia for dessert. There he was, enjoying every visitor that came to share their loving. There he was basking in his morning bath, no complaints really. Oh maybe a pain when he was turned in bed or maybe the swelling in this feet hurt a bit, but I’m convinced now as I look back on the images I have held all these days, weeks, and months, that the absence of pain was measured by and due to the exquisite and palpable love and gratitude he was emanating and giving and receiving and expounding upon whenever anyone asked.

And I am meant to fill out these forms while he is living the most profound days of his life 200%? How unfair! We weren’t prepared, largely due to my resistance to the inevitable. But that’s another story—how denial serves and how it undermines the beauty and sacredness of the truth.

I couldn’t bear doing it alone, nor could I bear to be away from Kenny except to do little tasks that only took a minute or two. But this task was gargantuan. My heart and throat ached and I couldn’t stop the tears with every sentence I read and every mark I made. Dear Kevin read with me, helped me focus and poured out his love and compassion with the tone of his voice, with his clarity of mind, sitting real close with his full attention and his presence and his willingness—to just sit with me and hold while I wrote and checked boxes and barely grasped the meaning, not wanting to dwell on what happens to a body when it stops living. I can still feel enveloped in a cocoon of caring, the kind of caring that really works—to ease the burden, to console the tears, to hold all of me, all levels of consciousness in the love of the Spiritual Heart. Try as I might throughout all these blog posts to describe the wondrous moments when I was truly aware of the presence of Spirit, I can only hope these word pictures touch you enough to reach your heart and give you a sense of their power, their sweetness, their unpredictable magnitude.

And here we are, another day in a life when one of us has met his last day in the glory that God prepares for us. Through my words, my pioneer tracker husband is still showing those of us reaching the age when we contemplate our own mortality more seriously—that we can leave this world with the truth on our lips and in our hearts, knowing we are one with God and welcoming the ascension to which we are all heir—into the Heart of God.

God bless you and remember to prepare those papers ahead of time so it’s all taken care of when the time comes that one of you will lift off before the other.

Love for you to respond. Tell your story. I’ve had several people share deeply and that’s why I’m writing—to give us all a chance to utter the truth about death and dying, no matter what that is. Please respond by writing in the comment field or writing directly to me at carol.jones43@yahoo.com. I’ll do my best to respond to all.

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