I watched someone close to me die the other morning.  The vigil lasted nearly nine hours.  She was in no pain, according to the medical staff.  They had given her medication to ease the pain and, perhaps more importantly, the fear, of drowning.  Her heart was failing and her lungs were filling up with fluid.

At first, she was breathing very deeply but only every ten or fifteen seconds.  This went on for quite a few hours.  The nursing staff kept saying that it wouldn’t be long.  It seemed that nearly every person holding the vigil to see this woman’s life through to the end, including the nursing staff, had a story to tell about the signs that might indicate that she would go at any time.  At one point, the nurses felt that they should turn the patient and asked us all to leave the room.  They indicated that often people will die when they get turned but she didn’t.

For only about the last half hour of her life, she began to breathe very shallowly.  Towards the very end, her breathing was almost imperceptible.  Finally, she simply transitioned from almost not breathing to actually not breathing.  It happened so subtly that those actually watching her were unsure whether or not she might breathe again.  We decided to call the nurse after a few minutes had past.  The nurse listened to the patient's heart several times through a stethoscope, each time nodding to the fact that the end had come.

My friend was old and had suffered enough.  We let her fade into whatever the next phase of her existence might present to her.  Although some of those in attendance cried.  I did not.  I was not happy, nor was I sad.  I was just in utter awe at how this lady’s body had continued even though she wanted to go. Then, without much fanfare, she had given up the ghost.  It is an experience I shall never forget.  It was nice to have met you, Friend.  I cheer because I know that you have reached the other side and you are now with all of those who have been waiting for you. Peace to you.  Peace to us.

~Bob Zaboo