here and gone

i was with someone today when he took his last breaths on earth.

that is a strange place to be.

i was on call. i was rounding with the nurses- it was early- around 7:45 in the morning.  i knew he was dying.  i had spent a lot of time with him yesterday- with his family- trying to sooth him- trying to calm him- to find that place of peace between worlds. yesterday was hard. he was moaning. he was restless- i was trying all the medicines i could- i was trying the non-medical interventions- talking with his family about music and touch and talking to him.  he was fighting it. muttering.  fidgeting.  walking between, not here, not there.  i knew we were close and i told them.  his daughter needed to leave- to drive her brother home for work- 8 hours away.  i told them i thought he'd be gone by the time she returned.  she'd stayed. i was so thankful.

so while we rounded- the daughter came running out of the room- "come!!" she cried.  " i think he's gone!"
we all headed to his room. 

his eyes were open.  they weren't looking anywhere.  there was quiet. stillness. then he took another breath. his last.  the nurses were bustling around- trying to get his vital signs- to get his blood pressure and pulse. 

why?

because it's something to do.

no. i said.
stop.
let his family come here to the bedside. let them tell him they love him.  let them hold him.
get the medical stuff off.
he's going.
let him go.
let him be at peace.

everyone cried.
but it was OK.  he was gone.  he wasn't suffering anymore.  that cancer was done. it can't touch the spirit on the other side. now just a body lay there in that bed.  there was one less being in that room.

it's strange- the coming and going of spirits.  babies being born and people dying. one minute someones not there and then they are- or they're there and then they're gone.  one blink.  change.  eternity. 

i haven't been there much when people are born or die.  the first and last breaths.  but it does make you feel small.  infinitesimally small.  we are but a mist. a breath.  a glance. 
here.  then. gone.

so fragile.

so humbling.

i'm just sitting with this today.

with our humanness.  our smallness.  but also- our passion.  so much goes into a life.  so much influence in our 70ish years.  so many other peoples lives touched by ours. brushed up against ours. 

what are we doing today to make it better? what are we doing with our lives? our moments of breath? of being?