A Homage to Death
Life begins with love, is maintained by love, and ends with love’
~ Tsoknyi Rinpoche
This morning I walked into her room to find her asleep. This didn’t surprise me as she’d been sleeping almost continuously for two days now. But this morning was different, her breathing was heavier and although her eyes were half open her gaze seemed to be looking back as if to some deep and faraway place. Antonio Machado sums it up in these words…
‘No my soul is not asleep
It is awake, wide awake
It neither sleeps, nor dreams, but watches,
It’s clear eyes open,
Far off things, and listen
At the shores of the great silence’
I sat stroking her face, a face that had weathered 82 years of life. So much beauty and grace in every line, so much gratitude in my heart for this woman’s life. I see above her bed a photo from about ten years ago of her and Richard sitting on a fallen tree laughing playfully together, another photo, this one black and white, to the side of the bed of her receiving an award, dressed elegantly, in her youth with her whole life stretching ahead of her. I found myself reflecting on how if she hadn’t lived her life in the way she did, I would not have been blessed with my husband and two children. I whispered softly in her ear, “thank you, thank you dear Val… for your generosity and love, for all you’ve given to us….I love you”. I sat for a while longer, then kissed her warm head and left, I had arranged to meet someone, but hoped to return again later.
As I drove away from home everything in me wanted to turn back. ‘She’s going to go today, it will be today’ a voice said in my mind. She was slipping away fast now and I wanted to be by her side in the moment she decided to go. I hurried back following those whispers. Nothing seemed important right now except to be there, right with her, accompanying her through this rite of passage that we call death.
What is it to witness and honour the passing of a life? A life so precious and unique.
Valerie Mary Burgess. She had been with dementia now for 7 years, slowing declining. Over the last few weeks she had stopped eating, taken to bed… each time I visited to sit with her she was slipping away and yet the space in the room felt more liminal and holy.
Today, as I stepped through the front door of my mother-in law’s house I heard gentle singing … yes it will be today, I thought. I entered her room to witness women surrounding her bed. One granddaughter holding her hand, her incredible carer stroking her head, her other granddaughter softly singing and playing guitar. I nestled myself into this cocoon of love that was being woven around Val…. hearts breaking open as we expressed through our tears and gentle whispers, words of support, love and appreciation to her. I was struck by the similarity between the rite of passage of birth and death… I realised that there is a labour to dying, just as there is a labour to giving birth. Like birth, death can be painful, unpredictable and is so worthy of a circle of loving beings to support the soul’s transition.
Time stood still as we sat around completely attentive to her body breathing, a breath that was both present and yet ebbing. No present, no future, just this…an intense Presence. There seemed an eternity between one breath and the next….the spaces between becoming longer and longer until her body breathed out one last time…. a space….and then nothing… like a tiny bird had just flown, released from it’s earthbound nature, stretching it’s wings and flying free.
There was a deep silence as we all bore witness to the immensity of a Life passing… the room was filled with awe, Mystery, disbelief, relief. Our teary eyes looked quietly from each other and back to Nana. Our hearts poured open and we cried. Goodbye Nana, goodbye. May your soul fly free. Both grief and joy arising simultaneously! Was it an end or a beginning? In that moment it felt like both. Like T.S Elliot said, ‘In my end is my beginning’
In my mind’s eye, I saw her mother and father above her bed…. welcoming their precious daughter into their arms…. I saw all the ancestors stretching back behind them… and now all her children and grandchildren… at the tip of the arrow.
We women decided that we would like to honour Val and support her soul’s transition by preparing her body, as they do in other traditions. Gathering around her we gently washed her body, lovingly anointing it with scented oils… her body was still warm with left over life, this body that had nurtured three children. We dressed her in one of her favourite tops and trousers, with pearls that she loved wearing… we sprinkled rose petals around her body and put flowers in her hands. A ritual to express our deep gratitude for her and all the love that she had so generously given to those around her.
To be able to partake in this ritual was a complete honour for me. Being a close companion to Val over these days and hours was one of the most humbling and beautiful experiences that I have had. In some small way helping me to make another small step towards making peace with death.
As scary as the prospect of death can be, the beauty is that it connects us to every other human being. The contemplation of death feels far too important to be left to our final hours. As David Whyte says so beautifully, ‘Apprentice yourself to the curve of your own disappearance’
Here is a recording of ‘Beautiful’ the song was sung in the room as Val parted this world sung by her granddaughters Beke and Jo.
This is a little photo found after she passed, in her jewellery box. She’s with Richard, her husband of 52 years.