“Because, my friend, we are all going to die eventually.” his warm steady eyes pierced as deeply as his truth. We were all going to die. It’s how it works. A soulful man like him would understand it well.
I understood too. I had said those exact words to many patients in the course of my career, always wondering if I could feel so easy about it from the other side of the bed. Now I could know what I had always suspected: I didn’t. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to let go and was angry it had come so soon.
My eyes burned and teared and he handed me a tissue without breaking his gaze. “I’m sorry, friend, I wish there was a softer way to say it but you know the truth of it better than most.”
“I just hadn’t expected it so soon. I had meant to retire, travel more, see my grandkids. I had less than a year to collect my retirement and now… I struggled… I worked… All that time… For nothing.”
“Not nothing. How many times have you sat with a dying patient and held their hand? How many families have you comforted? Why would you call that nothing? You’ve made a difference.” I continue crying. He gently takes my hand, “Death isn’t the end. It’s just a new phase and I have to believe wherever you go will be amazing. You can’t give so much every day and not deserve an amazing death.”
An amazing death… I would need to contemplate what would make it amazing. “Once, a friend told me she was hoping for Taco Tuesdays in heaven. Do you think that qualifies as amazing? Because, I have to be honest, it’s a small comfort but it’s not nothing.”
He laughed, “Was that Kendra? She’s always pushing Taco Tuesdays.”
“Yeah.”
“Ok. We’ll say a prayer for Taco Tuesday. It’s a start.”
“It’s a start.” My heart felt lighter, if only for a moment…
Natolie Webb 