Barefoot Bellringing

Life has been a series of struggles lately, physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically. Lately there has been a great deal of loss in the community and in our small parish family. I am reaching the place where I have gone from burying parishioners, to burying friends and sometimes to burying family. It hurts. But it is my job and I have to function well to be able to care for the congregation.

On the fourth of July a parishioner died who had been in and out of hospital for the past few months. She was 89. She was ready to die and at peace with the world. Another parishioner who is 97 was admitted to hospital this evening. He’s got some serious circulation issues, and may need to have a toe amputated. Two years ago his wife of 73 years died. He was devastated and has wept for her every day since. His family is telling him to “get over it” and the truth is, he doesn’t want to. I don’t blame him. He is not suicidal, he is simply ready for this life to be over so he can join his bride in the next life.

I’m feeling torn between the friend who is trying to get him “better” so he can go back to his life in a retirement residence, and the desire he has to die. I tend toward his want. He isn’t afraid to die. He is ready to go. But his heart is strong, thanks in part, to an operation he had 4 years ago to repair a faulty valve. He had the surgery so he could live longer and care for his wife whom he was losing every day to Alzheimer’s disease.

When I go and visit, we often sit in silence and I will hold his hand while he cries. I encourage him to talk about his wife, and watch his smile come from his heart and light up his face. We share communion from the traditional Book of Common Prayer and he knows every, single word by rote…even the priestly parts.

Quite often he weeps only while we go through the Eucharistic Rite, and he apologises profusely. I remind him that it is not a bad thing to weep, and often I feel like weeping at the sheer volume of the gift that Jesus and God gave us. He nods understanding and we wait, in silence, until we continue again.

I don’t expect he will see another birthday or another Christmas. He is really and truly ready to leave this life. And in my humble and non-medical opinion, I believe his wishes should be honoured. Lead him out of pain, and let his life come to an end. No more medical procedures, other than for pain relief. No more surgeries.

We have talked often about his wishes for his funeral. He wants a traditional Requiem Mass, the same as we did for his beloved wife. I received a couple of comments that the service was very somber, but that was his choice and that choice needs to be honoured. He and his wife had talked about their wishes while she was still well enough to understand. The service has been written, the readings selected and even the hymns have been chosen. And when his time comes he will be honoured with a Requiem Mass. We will honour his legacy, celebrate his life and do it soberly, with honour and tradition. And there will be laughter. I have promised him, that there will be laughter, as there was for his beloved bride.

So tomorrow I will go and visit him in hospital. I will bring communion and oil for anointing. And we will pray together that if it is God’s will that he should heal, then that will be done. And if it is God’s will that he be called home, then that will be done. I will miss him terribly, as I miss his wife terribly, but I know that he will be in a place where he is no more pain; only joy and love as he his reunited with his wife, his parents and siblings.

I find myself struggling with the ongoing significant loss in the parish and how I process it all. I know I was created with a large heart, but it’s also a delicate surface that is easily hurt, bruised and battered. There are times when I wish I had a harder heart, but then I wouldn’t be me. And the only person I can be is the person that God created. For better or for worse.

So as the darkness descends on another day and we approach another weekend, I pray for restorative sleep, for me and for my congregation. I pray for laughter and time with good friends. I pray for old friends and new ones. I pray for enjoyable time with my family. I pray for peace. And I pray for hope. I pray for hope and I pray for love.