A Good Day To Be Dying
/A Good Day To Be Dying In
“Today is a good day to be living in;
Today is a good day to be dying in.”
Bold and profound, even courageous, this quote about living and dying challenges us. Everyone is happy to agree with the first line, but resistance and anger loom up for the second part. “No,” we cry out, “No! It is not a good day to be dying! No to death!”
Believe me, I understand. You can count me amongst the crowd insisting on “no.”
At the cellular level of our bodies, of all organic matter, we are programmed to survive. Programmed to fight death with all we’ve got.
However.
A Final Performance Awaits
Each one of us has been issued a ticket to a last performance.
The very moment we are born, a death sentence is also handed out. It's as if a personal engraved invitation to the event is created, but we can't find the date and time on it.
No matter.
The date and time will find us.
Steve Jobs offered this quote:
“If you live each day as if it were your last,
someday you’ll most certainly be right.”
Facing Death At The Hospital
It's one thing to say these words and quite another to live them.
The hospital called when my father was admitted. I figured it was just another "tune-up" admission. He'll be admitted for a few days and then sent back home.
This time, however, the doctor insisted I should come. I asked if my father were dying. She skirted around those words and would only say that it was serious. "You should come."
I hastily booked a plane ticket. “Today is a good day to be living in. Today is a good day to be dying in," I whispered to myself 30,000 feet in the air.
Seeking inner strength and wisdom, I repeated these words like a mantra. I chanted them each morning as I drove to the hospital where my father spent his final days in the intensive care unit.
Get Back, Death
As much as I tried to defy and force back the hovering clouds of Death waiting to lift our dad away from us, I had no personal power to alter the upcoming event.
My father's heart and kidneys were failing. He was, without question, in a dying process; no other options remained.
My failed attempts to battle and then to bargain with Death brought home the realization of just how small I really was.
The only thing left for me to do was to hold my father with TRT® hands-on of The Radiance Technique® (TRT®) and to offer all the love I could muster.
So that's what I did.
Hours Of TRT® Hands-On
I spent hours every day sitting on the hospital bed doing TRT® hands-on with my dad, mostly in his heart center. People would come to visit. While everyone talked, I would keep my hands in his heart and all the while he was receiving universal, healing energy.
With TRT® hands-on, I had a way to hold us, deeply from within. The healing energy of TRT® was not going to "heal" him to stop him from dying. The healing is a balancing of energy that supports many levels – body, mind, emotions, Soul and Spirit.
My dad didn't really have anything to do with TRT®, but he happily accepted TRT® hands-on without further discussion. Without words, he intuitively knew this supported him.
I couldn't beat back Death, but I could hold my dad with universal energy as he walked through that invisible door.
To say I am thankful for the bridge of radiant support that The Radiance Technique® provides doesn't begin to describe my gratitude for this technique.
TRT® gave me a real way to help my father. I wasn't relegated to only words or gestures. Real light that connected to his soul and spirit supported him.
Holding A Vigil
We talked.
As family and friends came to visit him, we recounted stories about the "good old days" and our many adventures together. He was completely past-oriented. When I mentioned something I was going to do in the future, he scarcely heard me. He would pause with a far off look in his eye and immediately return to past events.
Although he didn't eat much, we ordered a few special food requests.
We were blessed to have him for one more week; many people were able to say goodbye.
In the time we still had, it was, indeed, a good day to be living in.
Only Love Remains
My father remained entirely lucid to his last moments. He knew he was dying and accepted this fact with unbelievable equanimity. His calm ability to face the upcoming event took my breath away. His steadiness inspired awe in all who came to see him.
Fully aware his death was coming, he simply asked to not be “hurried along,” then he would add that he didn't want to be a burden either. I did everything in my power to honor his request to not rush the process.
In those last days, with heart-aching wonder, my dad spoke of love like he never had before; how important it is and how essential to tell others that you love them. He worried he had not said it enough.
"Don't worry," we told him, "we knew."
We always knew.
Will It Be Today?
Each day I drove to the hospital to see him, I wondered if that very day would be *the* day of his last breath. "But," I constantly reminded myself, "if this is his day to die, then it will be a good day to be dying in." I told myself it had to be, because it would be his day.
No Matter The Day
Thus it will be for all of us. I wonder if I'll manage to be even half as brave when that final, dying moment comes.
Still, no matter which day I die in, no matter which day any of us die in, it will be a good day to be dying in.
It shall be, it will have to be, because it will be our day.
* * * * *
My dad's favorite dog, German Shorthaired Pointer
The Dying Lion of Lucerne, Switzerland
Quote by Dr. Barbara Ray used with permission
