You hit a nerve with this one, Paul! My 88-year-old mom passed just about this time last year. My siblings and I were with her those last few days, and I feel like I lived your poem. And while difficult, it was a blessing being there with her, holding her old hands, feeling those 'ridges and ripples', experiencing so much of what you noted. Reading it comforted me! Thank you!
Trite as it may sound, it’s a privilege to be close to someone when they leave. Staying with them as you might at an airport waiting with for them to board, for the plane to pull from the gate and watch until it is airborne.
Thank you, Diane. I remember I was listening to Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna when I first had the idea to write something along this line. I thought I had finished but heard the piece again today and changed/rearranged several lines.
I've been with the old ones, too and it this poem was a transcendental blast into the other world. You really took us there into the beyond, into the Lux Aeterna. Wow...loved it.
Thank you for getting these thoughts down. It's a perspective I don't see often, a true openness to the closing and contracting of a life, that final chapter that links us all. I work with the dying and wrote in my latest essay about the way I absorb my patient's hands. There's something about hands, isn't there?
Thank you for this Paul. My favorite job ever was in an Assisted Living facility. I was the Office Manager & Transportation Director. Because of what my job was, I was able to talk with the residents more than many of the caregivers.
We had amazing conversations. They were as diverse in the encapsulated world of the final stages of life.
A concert violinist, A former CEO of a Fortune 100 company, a Survivor of the Bataan Death March, a Female Farm owner who fit in board room as well on a tractor.
It was such a privilege to spend time with them. They were grateful to have someone listen to them, but I was the one who gained so much being with them.
They were not just “old people” who to some were a pain, always want something always needing something.
Had I been able to put into words what the privilege felt like to me, it would not be as perfect as this.
You hit a nerve with this one, Paul! My 88-year-old mom passed just about this time last year. My siblings and I were with her those last few days, and I feel like I lived your poem. And while difficult, it was a blessing being there with her, holding her old hands, feeling those 'ridges and ripples', experiencing so much of what you noted. Reading it comforted me! Thank you!
💖
Thank you for sharing, Rich.
Trite as it may sound, it’s a privilege to be close to someone when they leave. Staying with them as you might at an airport waiting with for them to board, for the plane to pull from the gate and watch until it is airborne.
What a lovely image. I’ve heard hospice nurses say they felt the tug of heaven at that moment.
It’s profound.
Not trite at all. I see your response as heartfelt 💖
Paul, Lux Aeterna is wonderfully painted. For those of us who have held a dying loved one’s hand, it’s a tearjerker. Thanks❤️
Thank you, Diane. I remember I was listening to Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna when I first had the idea to write something along this line. I thought I had finished but heard the piece again today and changed/rearranged several lines.
Perfect.
Inspirational 💖
I've been with the old ones, too and it this poem was a transcendental blast into the other world. You really took us there into the beyond, into the Lux Aeterna. Wow...loved it.
Thank you!
Wow! No words.
Thank you for getting these thoughts down. It's a perspective I don't see often, a true openness to the closing and contracting of a life, that final chapter that links us all. I work with the dying and wrote in my latest essay about the way I absorb my patient's hands. There's something about hands, isn't there?
Yes, Addie, there is something about hands, a gift through which we can see the world and read it in ways not available to our eyes.
What a beautiful reflection Paul💚
Thank you, Brian.
Yes! Absolutely all of this! 🙌🏼
Thank you for this Paul. My favorite job ever was in an Assisted Living facility. I was the Office Manager & Transportation Director. Because of what my job was, I was able to talk with the residents more than many of the caregivers.
We had amazing conversations. They were as diverse in the encapsulated world of the final stages of life.
A concert violinist, A former CEO of a Fortune 100 company, a Survivor of the Bataan Death March, a Female Farm owner who fit in board room as well on a tractor.
It was such a privilege to spend time with them. They were grateful to have someone listen to them, but I was the one who gained so much being with them.
They were not just “old people” who to some were a pain, always want something always needing something.
Had I been able to put into words what the privilege felt like to me, it would not be as perfect as this.
This touched me to my core.
Such a beautiful piece. 🙏🏼🥲❤️
Thank you, Pamela.
I did this with both mom and dad. Exactly two months apart.
P.S., I love Lux Aeterna. You’re the only person I “know” who knows this piece. Perfect musical embrace, as said by This is Us...
I heard Lux Aeterna shortly after it was first recorded with the Los Angeles Master Chorale - stunning.
🥰 Lucky!
I am fine, Marie - I hope you are well.
Thank you for sharing, Alixandra. Both my parents are gone and I was unable to be with either at the time.