This summer I furthered
my learning on grief, in the process I’ve begun learning what it truly means to
be a neighbor. (*1) My neighbor was
diagnosed with cancer in January. I
didn’t know this, our lives had been so chaotic that we hadn’t engaged with
these neighbors recently. But, I hadn’t
seen them lately, crossing paths in the elevator, as we usually did. It was February and I was compelled (prompted
by the Holy Spirit) to go and knock on their door to see how they were. I am so glad I listened to the Holy Spirit
and shut the voices up that said “it’s weird and invasive to go knock on their
door.” (Isn’t that the dialogue our society is embracing….and totally missing
out on true community right in our neighborhoods as a result?). This knock on the door re-engaged our
interactions. March, April and May were
chaotic (*2) in our house. But in June
my neighbor began to get sicker and I earnestly tried to bring food when I
could (though I was still struggling to sort out how to feed my own family
well), most of all keeping a connection through conversation and letting them
know they have our support. It was
difficult to say goodbye as we embarked on our month long vacation. I was grateful M confidently bid us farewell,
“see you when you get back.”
When we arrived back she
was in hospice. Rayna and I were able to
visit her there and have a lovely, like any old time, visit. She mentioned that Rayna must not know what
to think of a place like this, referring to the hospice. I assured her Rayna was comfortable there
because I take her when I do monthly visits to nursing home residents from our
church. I continued to explain that my
mom had volunteering in nursing homes and that she taught me a deep respect for
the elderly and my elders. M replied,
“She taught you well.” (*3) I had hoped
to visit my neighbor the next week, but my kids were sick and I wasn’t
able. The following week, was her
last. Ryan and I visited her the day she
passed away. Read below, what I wrote upon learning of her passing.
I grieve today the loss
of our neighbor of 9 years and friend. In the past months since her cancer
diagnosis we engaged in beautiful conversations. We spoke of faith and the
assurance of salvation for those who believe in Jesus. This was
meaningful because though she did not attend a faith community, she grew up
going to church and expressed a clear and unwavering belief in Jesus's
redeeming power, offering us life beyond the grave.
I cry in grief for the
loss of this friend. She became so dear to my heart in the last half
year. I love her deeply. As I ponder the hurt of stepping in to
love and finding loss within that love, I can boldly declare: "better to
have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I chose to step deeper into this relationship
and blessing abounded.
This pain of loss is
beautiful, it is a barometer of how "human" I have become. I am
thankful for it. How wonderful to be human with the capacity to have such
a spectrum of emotions which stir up passions and declare we are truly alive.
Our society tends to suppress emotion. Though emotion certainly ought not to be
our guiding force, it is a powerful reminder of the beauty of our humanity.
As I grieve a friend, I
am reminded of grieving another "friend" years ago. I dated a
guy in high school for 3 years, for those years I became part of his
family. His mother past away around 3 years after we broke up. I
attended her funeral, but didn't know how to fully process the grief I was
experiencing. I had healthy experience with death and grief; but I suppose I
felt like I was on the outside, not fully entitled to this grief. A
friend's mom noted this to me as she stated, sometimes it's difficult to know
how to grieve as a friend, when you’re not family. (When you’re not in the “inner circle”).
I experienced this also
yesterday visiting my neighbor in her last day. Family was also there and I
didn't want to "steal" their final moments with their mother. In no way did they make me feel unwelcome;
but within I felt like I shouldn’t be there too long. As a result my last moments with her were
more brief than they needed to be and held some awkwardness in them. I wish I would have settled calmly into those
moments I was given. I went to go visit
her the next morning and she had already passed away.
I walked away from the
hospice and I sat in my car and cried.
If you know me well, you know that my emotions don’t usually rise easily
to the surface (*4); but in this moment I needed to weep for my loss. When I shared with my close friend, she said,
“I am sorry for your loss.” At times
those words seem trite. Here they did not and I thanked her for naming it: my
loss.
In my experience with M
on her last day, I learned a valuable lesson. As I reflected on how I wished I had behaved,
I learned the value of being able to shove away feelings of what I think I
“ought” to do when “ought” so very often just is not helpful. While I let my notions of what I thought I
ought to do direct me (or perhaps my uncertainty of not knowing what I ought
to do) and I feel I “blundered” my last moments with my neighbor; rather than
regret I will choose to learn from them.
Another part of what I
learned is this: and here I want to
state very clearly my wishes. If you love me, you are welcome to
grieve my death as family. You are welcome to visit me in last days as
family. The dearest friends are truly family!
I don’t want to dwell on
my death, it is not necessary, so to close I will reiterate: the dearest
friends are truly family. I am so
grateful for how my family has grown over my lifetime. Much love to my neighbors turned friends
turned family. And thank you to my
neighbor M who taught me so much this summer.
Thank you for letting your life and death touch me beautifully.
(*1) Engaging with my
neighbor as I’ve illustrated has been a beautiful part of learning about being
a neighbor; but it is not the only part.
I live in an apartment condo building.
Over the 9 years we’ve been here I’ve begun to know numerous people
within the building. I run into Mrs. A
from downstairs we talk, she tells me how good I look (her daughter has also
battled cancer), later in the day she drops off a couple books and nice soap
outside my door. Mrs. M invites Rayna
for tea parties when her granddaughter is over.
Mrs. E gave us a box of lovely books for the kids that their
grandchildren had outgrown. Mr. D has a
motorbike that Garrett is already ogling, he is also a friendly caring
neighbor. Just yesterday M who used to
live down the hall, called me because she felt she could trust my opinion and
needed a few suggestions. God bless Mrs.
N who is gracious to not complain about our kids’ stomping feet and who we were
able to be a support to when she fell and her daughter was out of town. And we are saddened (but happy for them) that
our neighbors turned friends are moving out of province next month. They are the definition of neighbors blessing
us simply but richly. We will greatly
miss them. And as I type out this list,
I realize I ought to banish my dissatisfaction for still living in an
apartment. Perhaps, this is part of the
reason the need to leave does not feel as urgent as even I would think it would
feel! These are our neighbors and I have
grown to love the different shapes and sizes of them.
(* 2) March was busy with celebrating Rayna’s
birthday and engaging in the MAiD conversation.
April and May brought about childcare transition requiring
potty-training which was part in parcel a bit of a necessary nightmare!
(*3) Yes mom, you taught
me well. Thank you. I love you.
(*4) Ps. I don’t view this as a admirable
attribute. I am trying to work on allowing my emotions to the surface more
readily.
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