A natural death is a beautiful thing and a blessing for those who are present.
My Mother passed on recently. She was at home, we were with her at the end and there were no interventions: neither a hastening, nor a delaying of the death. We went at her pace: when she wanted to eat we gave her food and when she had no further wish for food we stopped.
Towards the end she drank less and less, then the breathing became more intense; laboured, then faster and then finally, pauses between the breath. And then there was one final breath…. and the spirit left: up and out: liberation, expansion, no separation.
I have heard that we are reborn in the moment of witnessing death. I don’t know or understand that, but the thought has been with me.
The National Health Service were rather amazing, providing a fabulous bed in the blink of an eye, all kinds of support and some very kind individuals. I had expected none of this. We also got what I had expected: a lot of pressure to take Mum into hospital and offers of drugs galore: drugs for pain (morphine), for nausea, for agitation (Midazolam!) and for wheezing. All these drugs hasten death. But thankfully Mum had no pain, no need for any of their drugs; nor the liquid food they offered. She made her own journey, in her own time.
I am so grateful to have been alongside her. And in the ensuing days to have been able to wash her body, pick flowers and light candles. My brother and father and I cried and hugged each other, shared stories and looked at photos…
In grief there is so much gratitude and there is joy: to have loved and been loved. It is a beautiful thing and fully alive. It is also a process, an unfolding… its trajectory quite unknown. I am grateful to have had the presence of the river Thames and some very special trees on my daily walks: a huge relief, release and restoration and an accompaniment in the process of letting go of a beloved being.
