I was told my friend had cancer and was given approximately 2 months to live. Well, 2 months is just a number and no one can say for sure how long someone will live. I reacted with shock, dismay and sadness. I had the realization that time was limited and if I wanted to see my friend again, it needed to be soon.
When I saw my friend, she was a skeleton of a body with big eyes and sunken in cheeks. I was composed, talked about how I cared and would miss our times together. We laughed about some of the silly journeys life had taken us on and both of us shed the odd tear. I did my best to control most of my tears and had more tearful sad moments after I was home.
I was a part of the circle of care that helped the family and my friend. I felt a little selfish with this duty; I was able to spend time alone with my friend. We shared stories and talked about things that can’t be said to others, perhaps for fear of upsetting them or sensing others won’t want to hear what is being said. Expressions of sadness for the family being left behind after her death, regrets, wishing some things could have been different and coming to terms with the fact that the best that could have been done at the time was done, given the way life was.
Life soon became different for all concerned and for my friend who realized and accepted the ending of this life and at the same time believed there was something better to come. For her, it was a belief in a “Power Greater than herself”.
I share this part of our journey with you to encourage you to be supportive of the people in your life who may be near the end of life. Learn from them, be a good listener and most of all tell them you love them if that is what you feel. I know there are those who state “I can’t be around dying people”!
To that comment I have said many times that there is never any judgment to be made, but please remember that every one of us can be a student and a teacher at some time in this journey of life to death.
All my best,
Barbara Gillett Saunders
Grief Counsellor/Thanatologist