Grief When Your Last Parent Dies | Eastern North Carolina Now

    The price of great love is real grief. I had a full blown experience in 1992 when my beloved father died from liver cancer. It was so great I had to be hospitalized before it was over. In that case, grief was accompanied by excess travel between Rocky Mount and Atlanta as he reached his last few weeks of life.

    I slept beside his struggling body his last night and got little sleep. When I changed shifts with my other siblings and went into a deep sleep in another room, they awakened me to announce he was gone. From that point forward for the next 3 days, there was no rest. Finally, I went to sleep with my eyes open. My mind just quit and I was hallucinating to those observing. In reality, I was outwardly awake, but inwardly dead asleep. God provides a relief valve to the mind. My wife held my head in her lap as I slept my way home and my children drove us both. It was an experience I never want to repeat from going too hard and doing too much.

    My mother left us at age 97 plus a few weeks 2 Saturdays ago. We had our grandson's 18th birthday celebration already in progress when the call came. We decided there was no point in spoiling a perfect day of celebration for our eldest grandson with such sad news. We had been anticipating this for months. Momma had spent the last year packing her bags for Eternity with more sleep and less eating. The last few days there was no ingestion of water or food. It was certain that the end was near. Her older sister had preceded her by a couple of months when her kidneys quit. Something about SC farm girls enduring hard work all their lives contributed to their longevity.

    Their Grandmother, "Aunt Melissa Williams," had lived to be almost 101. The Williams clan females were all fortunate to have good and clear minds in their last years. Those who endure dementia are the ones who suffer most from death approaching.

    Always count your blessings and be grateful for loving parents. Not all people are blessed with such and that is a "long row to hoe," as country people say.

    No matter what, Grief is a critical part of lost loved ones.

    I was most fortunate to see and hear Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross who wrote the first real book on Grief

    "On Death and Dying." She came to the Baptist Medical Center at Columbia, SC, and spent a day with us who attended. She told stories of her first attempt to talk with dying patients during her Chaplaincy training. All she wanted to do was talk honestly with people anticipating death. She went to the Oncology Ward with her request and was quickly told by Doctors and Nurses, "NOBODY dies here!"

    Her Swiss farm girl common sense told her that could not be true! When you are treating terminal cancer patients they are going to die soon despite any measures by modern medicine. She shared her first wise observation with us: IF you cannot accept the fact you are going to die, yourself, you are hardly a good person to be honest with a dying person or their family. One of her goals was to help medical professionals deal with death of their patients. They are not God and people do die when God is in charge of life and death. She had discovered that dying people never share their real feelings and words with doctors or family if they feel they cannot take it! It just makes things harder when nobody wants to listen to your words in your last days of life.

    As a Minister, I have had to deal with death and funerals from year one of my career. The first was a lovely teenage girl at Easley, SC. She was in our Youth Group and always one of the best and brightest. After a Sunday evening Youth Fellowship great time, Linda had to leave first because she had a paper due on Monday. A double track came through the middle of town. She and others got caught by the red light and in the distance the light and sound of a fast freight train rushed at her car trapped on the tracks by cars and a light. In her fright, she did not think to get out and run. Instead she died instantly in the mighty collision. We were in the traffic line and another great teenage boy came to our car window and cried, "Linda has been hit and she is dead!"

    My wife and I got out of the line and went to the Easley Baptist Hospital which was on that side of the tracks. There I listened to the Doctor come out and tell us the official news. In about 30 minutes her father came in and was told the awful news of his beloved daughter's death. He was speechless and I rode beside him in his car as we journeyed to their house to tell her mother and younger sisters. There was nothing to do but exercise the "Ministry of Presence" with them. How Lawrence got out the words is beyond me as I sobbed to the side of the den.

    In about an hour Sister Do Good came in with a babbling tirade of words not needed nor wanted. There is always some well-meaning bubble-head thinking words can take away the pain of sudden death and loss never expected. I had the same experience as a little girl in my church was dying from Muscular Dystrophy. Her body had outgrown her lungs and heart's ability to sustain it. As I stood with the parents and doctor listening to her heart, I knew it had beat its last beat as big tears rolled down his cheek and he slowly withdrew the stethoscope.

    Prior to that, another Sister Do Good had burst through the door to assault a dying little girl and her family with empty words. To make matters worse, the lady took her little moves of dying spasms as her nodding and acknowledging that she was going to live as the lady was dictating. My impulse to throw her out of the room bodily was replaced by words from Above: "We have some church members in the visitor area praying for 2 members here badly sick. Will you go and help them pray, please?" Her parents and the attending nurses mouthed to me, "THANK YOU."

    The empty words of people refusing to admit to death come from their hearts --- and not those who are trying to comfort and be silently present. As you read this, take careful note of your own attitude toward death. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT is my best advice. Just be there and help them cry with no apology for tears of grief.

    My wife and I visited my mother's fresh grave beside my father and that was my time to weep tears of both joy and sorrow. Joy because momma was healed from above when there were only bedsores and slow rotting left to her body. Sorrow because I was her oldest son who loved and respected all the good things she had done throughout my life and my 3 siblings. She was a great teacher who had touched many with her quiet grace and constant support and caring for us all.

    The sun was starting to come up as we walked to her grave. The marker was to the side and already had her year of death alongside my father. The reality of using my shoe to smooth red clay dirt and do some final tidy up of her grave was my time to weep and rejoice. In olden days when you dug your own graves in the family cemetery on the corner of the farm or the community church, part of the Grief is digging and returning the body to Mother Earth. The body is now useless, but the Joy of Salvation is that which lets me know Eternity awaits those who love the Lord and Trust Him to care for us. She is now with our father, sister, and her other relatives in our Home Above. A loving family reunited is the thought that helps to start our parting Grief.

    I have a few books I always share with grieving people. The longest one is "On Death and Dying." Others that clergy and funeral directors have can be helpful to realize Grief is a part of death, whether it is sudden or anticipated in old age. Hospice is now a great help to many families. It was started from the research and writing of Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. We all need to realize Grief takes place in steps and until all are completed you are not at peace.

    When we are born, it is certain we will die one day. 70 years is the prognostication of the Bible. At any funeral it is the duty of those helping to be helpful --- not to try and be the "star of the show." Always read scripture, talk of the life of the person, and share the faith that sustains us all in this time.

    I am recovering from the long and hurried trip to Atlanta. It is now 2 weeks and the tears still flow in smaller amounts each time.

    Yes, I am shedding tears of Faith as I write this.