Last Times
In November I was asked to write something for my church’s Longest Night service. The purpose of this service is to remember those who are not experiencing the joy and happiness that most people associate with the holidays. This may be due to the loss of health, a loved one, a job, a marriage or other relationship, etc. I ended up writing 2 pieces – just because the mood struck, both of which I was intending to post on the actual longest night in December; however that week our family was victim to a raging stomach bug, hence the delay. This is the first piece I wrote (which was not read at the service); and while I made a resolution years ago never to make another New Year’s resolution, this is about as close to making one as I think I’m ever going to get. The second something will be posted later.
This Thanksgiving was a first for our family. It was first Thanksgiving without my husband’s sister, Alicia. But for some reason, that part of the holiday didn’t even seem real to me. I guess sometimes in the actual moment, I can still fool myself into thinking she’s on a long trip and get caught up in the other activities going on around me. However, alone with my thoughts, I’m unable to make myself believe that and remembrances of our last times together filled my head Thanksgiving weekend brought about by a conversation on black Friday evening at my sister’s house..
We were in the process of washing up Rebecca’s dishes after enjoying the delicious!! smoked turkey my brother-in-law makes every year. During this time, my sister announced that her infant son had finally eaten his cereal without spending the first half of the feeding trying to spit it all back out. In response to this news, my mom said something like “So you’ve had another last time. You’ve experienced your last baby having his last feeding of not knowing how to eat cereal.” I knew exactly what she was talking about. Unbeknownst to my mom and I at the time, we later found out we had both read the same book this past summer in which a mother writes a poem to her youngest child about all the last times in his life that went by unobserved. The mother is somewhat remorseful about not celebrating – or at least commemerating – those last times – the last time he crawled, the last time he sat in her lap, the last time he asked to be carried. Of course, the tricky element of the last time is that most times you don’t know when the last time is actually occuring for the last time.
After my mom’s statement, there was a moment of silence that filled the kitchen as we all may have been thinking the same thought. Last Thanksgiving was the first time my sister exhibited serious symptoms of having LAM. The last time we gathered there to enjoy the delicious smoked turkey we contemplated whether Becky was suffering from severe asthma or a pulmonary embolism as the doctors did not want to perform a CT scan on her lungs to determine the cause of the horrific pain in her chest due to her early pregnancy. That was the last Thanksgiving we were unaware of the disease that was about to change all of our lives, and certainly her own the most.
But rewind a little earlier on Thanksgiving day of 2010 – last Thanksgiving before going to my sister’s place, we gathered at Alicia’s house totally unaware that that would be the last Thanksgiving we would have as a complete family. The last time – the last Thanksgiving, the last Christmas, the last superbowl party at her house, the last phone call, the last time I saw her.
Maybe many you have had similar thoughts or experiences. Or maybe you actually knew you were experiencing the last time you would get to hug your loved one or tell them you love them. Maybe you can look back and know that you were able to comfort your loved one or share words meant only for him/her to hear one last time. But maybe you were not so fortunate – maybe you live wishing you could have had that last time, wishing you had known this was the last time, wishing you would have said something or done something differently had you only known this was the last time.
Due to the nature of Alicia’s death, I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t able to have a meaningful, loving last time with her. But as I process this stark fact and also the realities of my sister’s quickly declining health, I feel like I need to make a commitment that I will live today as if I am living my last times. And I ponder the thought -What would I do differently if I thought this was the last time I had with a particular person? Would I simply smile even if I felt like frowning? Would I attend to his physical needs with greater care and patience? Would I listen to her problems more attentively? Would I be more compassionate? Would I hug him – maybe hold on a little longer than normal? Would I thank her for the difference she made in my life and tell her how much she is worth? Would I tell him “I love you”?
In my sorrow, it’s so easy to look inward. “Most people don’t really understand how hard 2011 has been” is a thought that occurrs to me many times throughout the week. It’s easy to tell myself that it takes too much energy to live out my intentions right now as I wade through my sorrow, support my husband, help out my sister – and raise 2 energetic kids. And to a certain extent, that is true. I’ve needed to be patient in realizing I honestly can’t do everything I think I should be able to do. But I do need to go on really living. I do need to invest in others, not just their sake, but for my own as well. I intend to live each day as if it were my last. It won’t always happen – I will fail many days. But on the days I that I succeed, maybe some of the pain I bare of missing the last time with Alicia will turn into tiny moments of peace…. maybe. I won’t know until I try it.