Words May Fail, but Love Never Does

Death is personal. No two experiences are the same. Duh.

It has occurred to me that in a very short period of time we have had two very different experiences with dying – the long journey and the shocking event. One is not better than the other. They both end with the same result and they are completely different experiences for the loved ones who are left to grieve and live with a shattered heart.

Niels’s death was announced when the police officers rang our doorbell at 9:06 pm on a Tuesday night. When the female officer asked if I was Niels Thomas’s mom. When I answered “yes” staring at her with the unspoken question in my eyes and she simply…nodded, “yes”. 9:06 pm.

That is the kind of arrival of “death news” that drops you to the floor. Literally. It leaves you gasping for air. Shaking your head. Screaming “no”. And then over time…time that seems to stop, the realization of the passing sets in…slowly, swiftly…all mixed up in a surreal non-reality that turns out to be your new permanent reality. And yet, this CANNOT be real.

And then there’s the long journey to death…years of struggle, suffering, pain AND the ability to make choices about how you live. And how you die. Glen had cancer in 2008. I’ve always said that they had to “kill” him to save him because the treatment was brutal. Many times, I know he considered giving in to death. After his long and slow recovery, he often said that he hoped for 10 good years. Lucky him. But now, he has said…enough. Enough pain and suffering. Enough fighting. He gets to choose…

So I’m sitting here with Glen in the quiet of the morning light, I pretend that the “chirping” of the oxygen machine is the birds outside the window. I can see hummingbirds. (I know they don’t chirp, but let a girl have her story…) He’s calm, resting well thanks to the nurses who meet his every physical need.

I’m here contemplating life…and death. A long life well-lived and a life cut too short and yet also so well-lived. Both so well loved.

And then I got a text that said that “Niels is already with Glen. He is with you all.”

And my heart swelled and broke simultaneously. I have felt Niels’s presence here as Glen slowly leaves. I hadn’t been able to put my finger on my strange sense of peace, but that’s it. “We are four” again, if only for a few hours or days. WE ARE FOUR.

And..