Tag Archives: death

Awake at 3:30 AM…Again

There is something about the time from 2 am to 4 am which comes with aging, anguish, and illness.  When our beloved dog Hanna had reached her later years, lots of them she had–17, she would wake up during that wee hour time period and pace around the house.  Doug would always get out of bed in order to let her, and her baby Nina, outside; then, he would sit down in a recliner in our living room waiting for a signal which would always come in the form of a single bark from Nina (she was the talker) signaling they were ready to come back inside.  He did this for at least three years, every single night.  You see, this is how Angels work, quietly, without acknowledgement, without complaint, without posting it on Facebook…they just do what needs to been done in the quiet of the night.

Matthew 6:6

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.

Now I am way far away from being an Angel; so when I wake up at 3 am it is just to…well I’m not sure.  Like I said, there is something about that time of night.  I picked up dirty clothes, trying to be quiet because Doug was sleeping (in the recliner as he was afraid to sleep in the bed with his tubes and bag of chemo); then I started picking up stuff everywhere…I just felt like I needed to pick up stuff and throw it away.  I am not a house cleaner any more than I am an Angel.

A nurse told Doug not to shave because he might cut himself…hearing that terrified me…so open ended…such an out of the ordinary statement to make.

There are silent screams happening during the dead quiet of 2 to 4 am.

Oh, and most importantly, the Huskers woman’s volleyball team won their game last night; they are close to a national championship.

 

Pretending: It Isn’t Real

This week things get real: the chemicals, the radiation, the possible complications, the possibility of the event we all pretend isn’t real…you know the one: death.  Oh IT is coming alright, eventually (Though neither of us thinks it’s this time); but, one never makes a conscious decision to actually live facing the fact of death.  I remember reading a book where a man said to himself each morning: “Today could be the day”.

Death is the only one event we will all face and yet pretending it isn’t real seems the only way to happily survive in the face of the truth.

I’ve read many spiritual tomes from the Bible to just about everything Wayne Dyer wrote, the Tao, the Tibetan Book of the Dead…on and on and on; yet, I continue to live in opposition to the main thing all of these books address—death and its consequences.  Maybe it is time I start taking another look at things more seriously.  Life is a temporary condition, however, I have this deep knowing in my heart that consciousness is not temporary and survives beyond this physical body.   I have read too many amazing books about near death experiences and reincarnation to think otherwise; at least one of these stories must be true!

If you only read one book in your life, you must read “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor E. Frankl; it will restore your faith there is meaning to the human condition…you may find your own meaning.  I’m going to read it again myself.

The Songbird’s Nightmare

So let us pretend to live without fear; for what tomorrow will
Bring we can do little for but sing, as a songbird would, at the rising Sun then blink to try to clear the blur which comes from a night of Songbird’s dreams; a dark and darker night which seems more real Than the nest on which he spills the mourning raindrops of a
Deep night’s breath then quivers; or, are those sounds the
Dying shivers which one hears overnight when awakened by a Nightmare’s gasp at life?
The songbird’s nightmare is a sash which overhangs the joy
And, unlike a spoiled child who has lost his favorite toy,
He see’s the rising sun and perches up to sing
For he has lived another way and despite the dark
Is inspired by a golden light burning, as it were:
A day, a day, a day.