JudoWolf.com

The older man walked slowly down the beach. He was ankle deep in the water, the waves washed over him as a peace gathered in his soul. It was a peace that was brought on by a memory of a friend who had worked with him at Hospice. Her name was Barbara and she had died two years ago. They had worked together for eight years. He was no longer a very religious man and Barb (as he called her), was a Dominican nun. This made for an interesting combination. They were close to the same age, but besides working for Hospice had nothing much in common. Over the years they worked together and became very close for a number of reasons. The main reason was they were on the same team and were the only social workers on the team. They covered the poorest people and the minorities. Many times their dependence on each other was critical for patient care. He was the expert in Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security Disability. Barb was bilingual and spoke Spanish fluently. Together they made a terrific team and the patients they cared for benefited greatly.

Five years into their working relationship Barb picked up the older man at the airport and on the ride to his home told him her cancer had returned. Six years ago she had breast cancer and it was now reoccurring in her bones. Presently, she was having radiation therapy and soon would start hormone therapy. The older man was not surprised when she told him. Over his life he had this strange insight (some may say curse), regarding life and dying. Barb knew about the older man’s insight as she had seen it at work with his patients. He just knew when death would be coming. Looking over at Barb he stated, “You have time.” Barb replied, “I know.”  As they drove along the older man thought about this insight he possessed. Dying had given this gift to him. There was no rhyme or reason why dying had bestowed this upon him. The older man knew it was there, but never really thought about why. What he was thinking about right now was how he was going to help his friend. The one thing in their favor was neither was afraid of dying or death.

Over the next eighteen months Barb received a number of different treatments, and the older man was there to give her emotional and moral support. Then the terrorist (as they referred to the cancer) started their final assault on Barb’s body and entered her liver. Barb knew her time was getting short and eventually she had to stop working. The treatments she handled well, but the loss of her hair always bothered her. She always wore a hat except when the older man was visiting. She knew there was nothing he had not seen and his presence gave her comfort and the hat came off. Ironic, the older man always wore a hat which always gave them a good laugh. They talked about a lot of things during those final days.  Barb was performing what is called life review. All the different places she had been to and what she did when she was there. She spoke about her family and why she chose to be a nun. Regrets? She had none. Some visits there was more silence than chatter. One day Barb and the older man spoke of this silence. Many times they had sat with family members as their loved one died. This silence is always there. This type of silence is a presence that surrounds the dying person. The majority of people cannot stand this type of silence. They had to talk, never realizing the dying person was preparing to leave. The last thing the dying person wants to hear is chit chat. The older man and Barb referred to it as silent support. When the dying are close to death , they embrace it, as their deceased love ones are calling to them from the silence. The older man knew not many had experienced this type of silence. He never heard the deceased speak, but the serenity it invoked was overwhelming. Barb felt the same way. They were both blessed to have experienced this.

Stepping out of the water the older man sat on a piece of drift wood and remembered the last time he saw Barb. She was in bed and could no longer care for herself. The next day she would be going to the Mount in Wisconsin. This was the headquarters for her order and she would be cared for by the nuns. By this time the terrorist had won the big battle and were planning their victory party. Ironic, Barb would have the last laugh. She would win the war when she died. Smiling up at the older man she said, “I finally will do away with them once and for all.” There were so many things the older man wanted to say, but didn’t. Dying was there but knew he would get no pleasure from Barb. The only thing dying could do was sit and wait in silence. The older man sat and held Barb’s hand. In the hour he was there only a few words were spoken. Then the older man knew it was time to go. He stood up, kissed Barb on the forehead, and looking into her eyes knew she was already at peace.  Walking out of the apartment he knew he would never see her again, but when it was his time to die she would be waiting in the silence.

With kindest regards, Judowolf