Living with Dying
/Hello Dear Friends,
May the summer sun, wind, rain, beauty and rawness bring you to your knees with joy and offer a space of solace for your sorrow.
Take a nice slow breath if you'd like, before you read on!
When I was 12 or 13 years old, Mr Barth, a dear friend of my parents who was in his mid 40’s, had a massive heart attack. He survived this one but was told his heart was very weak and his days were numbered.
I didn’t see him for awhile after that, and then one day I ran in the front door and as I passed the living room for the stairs I heard my Dad’s voice.
I turned and walked in. He and Mr Barth and Mr Barth's two young son’s Ned and Timmy, were standing by the mantle chatting.
They paused their conversation as I burst in.
And honestly, in my memory, time stood still as Mr Barth said hello.
Even after 12 years of Catholic mass, and school, and cathedrals, and loads of priests and nuns, I had never really felt a human so fully present, whole body, whole soul.
It was as if a different force was moving through him, a presence I now see as someone awake to what absence from this life meant, and with that it seared a particular quality of being that was so profound I’ve never forgotten it.
The felt sense of being with him
was like coming home
to the deepest pool
of love and care available.
---Almost like the energy of his heart had gotten a heck of a lot bigger as it got weaker.---
And I’ve come back to that moment many times in my life, searching for how to be that.
I’ve had moments of it, glimpses for short times, mostly in relationship with the more than human world and infants. Bowled over by awe and beauty and reverence.
Divine energy some call it.
And Death.
There is no avoiding it. For any of us.
And now, after going through all that’s happened with Kevin and cancer, we are, as you read this, at a retreat at Breitenbush titled, “Facing Death, Living Life, The Beauty Way”
Being in a relationship with death so that I can live more fully now, that’s what Mr Barth gave me a glimpse of (thank you Mr Barth). I hope to learn more and become more of whatever that is.
My friend Mary sent me this poem by Marie Howe, evoked a lot in me. Especially this last line:
"oh sweetheart, oh holy mother, nothing nothing ever felt this good." -Marie Howe
I’ll likely come back with some juicy wonderings and more!
In the meantime.
Be kind.
Be kindest to your own heart.
Love,
Carol