Whether we feel it intuitively, hear it from the doctor, or the senior herself, there comes a point when we must face the last holiday season with our loved one.While loss is a challenge any time of the year, but there is a special quality, like salt in a wound, when THE END comes around the holidays.I cannot know your journey, or the quality of your relationship, to your loved one, butI can only share some thoughts that come from both from my work, and from my family.
I was helping a daughter in the nursing home after a call came that her mother had passed. Eventually, her roommate wheeled herself over to us.She spoke gently about her appreciation of her time with the mother.Then, she revealed that the mother had told her she had decided to “leave” a week before! The mother had asked the roommate to pray with her about this.
Her timing couldn’t have been worse for the daughter; she was still processing the initial shock. Even though our loved ones often are ill before they pass, there is still that emotional impact of the annunciation.
Sometimes, our loved ones are worried about us and do not share us their final decision.However, they will “tell us“ in other ways. Perhaps they tell a clergy person, a roommate, or a friend. From what I have seen, most adult children would have wanted to have that time to tell express their love. Perhaps there are other things that needed to be said; “I’m sorry, forgive me, I forgive you, or you have shaped my life”. When the family loses the opportunity to share these final words, it becomes another source of pain in addition to the loss. On 9-11 we heard about all the calls, voice messages, and emails that were sent just before people perished. The was the most common phrase was, “I love you.” How can we preserve that final space for celebration of the last holiday?
Remember, you grew up with these people. You know them in ways you cannot put into words.If you sense that this is the last holiday: give them permission to shape that final celebration.When they make an oblique reference to finality; don’t object – accept. We may not decide when we are born, but 30 years with seniors have shown me how often people “decide” when they will die. I have seen people who should have died, hang on until the child got married, or the grandbaby was born.Acceptance by family is hard, but it is crucial, especially during the holidays. The senior seeks emotional permission to share.
It’s their (final) celebration; ask them what do they want to do? The mother described earlier wanted to pray. Another mother wanted to dance at her daughter’s wedding.We can acknowledge that this is an important time, for them and for us. Perhaps we always….; fill in the blank. Did you always collect them for a holiday dinner? Decorate their room? Bring special food? Did the whole family come for a visit? Just because it worked in the past does not mean it will work now. ASK.
Perhaps lots of visitors are too exhausting. Maybe less is more on decorating. Perhaps a favorite dish is not good for their cholesterol: who cares?! My mother had ice cream three times a day at the end. Why not?!
Mistakes I have made include rushing around my mother’s place and busily scrubbing my sister’s place. In both cases that was not what they wanted. My mother even said; “Stop it and sit down beside me!” She used that voice I remembered from when we were children and getting rowdy. When the Bible says, “the voice of God”, I know that voice, it came out of my mother and you had no option but to obey!
When my sister was stricken with cancer, I started to do it again. Then, I remembered my mother’s voice and stopped.Instead, I asked her if she would like to go outside. It was November in Minnesota but it was a bright sunny day. She looked at me as though I had lost my mind! I told her this was her special time and if she wanted it, I would do it. Bundled up so only her face showed, I wheeled her onto the deck. I brought out her favorite tea and cookies. We just sat there, looking at the forest, the place where her garden had grown, and at the sky. She remarked about the sky several times. I let her lead the conversation until she looked tired. I did not take her in until she gave me permission. We took one last look at the sky.
A Senior Moment 