Leaving

“All great spirituality is about letting go.” -Richard Rohr

For All Saints’ Day

I was fortunate enough to visit both of my grandfathers while they were in hospice. No one ever knows how short or quick that time will be, and living far away didn't guarantee a visit. And yet, to be with both of them in their respective ends is something I won't ever forget.

I know hospice is a difficult reality for some. I imagine it can feel like giving up, or losing hope; but both my grandfathers showed me something else. They showed me the gift of getting time at the end, and knowing it's the end. After visiting them I thought about the countless people who never got that chance. Those who died suddenly in a car accident, in war, by a natural disaster, a shooting, etc. Anybody who woke up thinking it was any other day only to find out it was their last. Death is sad, no matter when or why; but in hospice my grandfathers added a tangible sense of serenity around that sadness. This serenity extended a genuine warmth in their dwelling and being.

There are times I look back, remembering the feeling of being in their hospice homes, and the only other place I’ve been that had a similar ambience is the postpartum ward where all my children spent their first days of life. Beyond the mix of hospital beds, nurses and family visitors, both places had that element of serenity and pain living in harmony. What the Celtics called “thin places”; where the lines between this life and the next life seem to blur.

It is these qualities that made it so difficult to leave those hospice rooms. I was able to visit each of my grandfathers a few times over a couple days and on each visit I never quite knew when it was appropriate to say goodbye. How do you leave someone who is in the midst of Leaving? I recall one of the visits with my father’s father in the evening on a dark February night. It became clear to me as I looked in his eyes, while we said good night, that each night he went to bed wondering if this was his last. But it wasn’t fear, or sadness, or relief that was shimmering in his old eyes — it was wonder. The late John O’Donohue begins one of his books with the line “It is strange to be here. The mystery never leaves you alone.” That was the mysterious wonder that I could see in my grandfather’s eyes.

My mother’s father had a similar look when I visited him. He went on to live many months after my visit, but the wonder was already there when I saw him. Instead of seeing it directly I saw it while he was looking at my son, just a one-year-old at the time, who was hand feeding him pretzel goldfish. A look of wonder, and strangeness, at the mystery of being here and being in this life.

Sometimes you can only see where you are by leaving and looking back at where you were. Hindsight is 20/20 they say. And we tend to only feel this when we move, start a new job, or graduate and upon arriving somewhere new are able to look back at where we used to be. But my grandfathers could do all this in real time while in hospice. Each visit felt like the only moment, and all the moments, of their entire life. Getting time at the end and knowing it was the end made their lives that full. I’ve convinced that this is what can make hospice and similar thin places uncomfortable. We aren’t bothered by the image of mortality or illness, but are startled by the abundance of presence that is offered. And what’s stranger is that this abundance is always available, it never leaves you alone. You just need the wonder to see it.

May you remember those who have died, who you loved, on this day. May the leaving of the leaves and sun help you recall their leaving… but may you not despair. May you instead, in that thin place between sadness and fondness, find that elusive doorway to presence, that never leaves you. May you find the awareness to recall the wonder in those who’ve gone before you, so that you don’t miss the fullness and wonder of your own life. And may you, my friend, find it in yourself to carry this wonder and fullness in your eyes so that you may share it with the stranger you meet.