Post by Eric Daniel Metzgar on Dec 4, 2015 12:50:54 GMT -8
One of the inspirations for the film was my experience of my grandmother's death. She was a tremendous person. She lived to 106 and was sharp and alert until the last few days.
I flew in from out of town to be with her and my family. We sat at her bedside for a few days after she had slipped out of consciousness. At first it was difficult to be in that room, to see her in that state. But fortunately on my previous visit -- when she was doing quite well -- I took the opportunity to tell her how much she meant to me. I wept as I told her, but she was steady. She told me she wasn't afraid to die. This gave me a lot of peace as I sat with her during her decline. I'm enormously glad that I took the opportunity when I had the chance to tell her how much I loved her.
The chaplain assigned to us was terrific. She knew how to hold the space. She encouraged us to reflect on memories of my grandmother, which created a positive energy within the sadness. As the hours passed, I began to accept what was happening... and strangely... I began to embrace it. That is, when I stopped resisting her dying, I saw the incredible beauty and inevitably of nature emerge. I felt like I was in direct contact with the reality of life in a more powerful way than ever before. I then set an intention to be steadfast, positive and useful for my grandmother during her passing. I wasn't sure if she was cognizant of my presence, but in case she was, I wanted her to know that we were with her, that we were okay, and that she was allowed to leave us. I didn't want her to feel or hear resistance and denial. So I spent the night in her room just holding her hand and talking to the chaplain about the immense power of dying.
When her final moment came, we gathered around the bed and laid our hands on her. She began taking less frequent breaths until there were only a few gasps per minute. Then she took one last breath and that was it. In that moment, my grandmother left. I could see it. Her miraculous being vacated -- to where I don't know -- leaving her 106 year old body behind. We were quiet. It was shocking but it was overwhelmingly beautiful. There was nothing wrong with any of it. She died and was meant to die. I finally realized that death isn't a disaster.
I've come to feel that a necessary part of our life's work is to help our loved ones die -- to allow the endings of our lives to be beautiful, to be natural, to be peaceful. There will be sadness and tears, but when death is inevitable, we must learn to release our hold and let our loved ones move on, and then move on ourselves. With open hearts we can offer our loved ones back to the earth and into eternity.
I flew in from out of town to be with her and my family. We sat at her bedside for a few days after she had slipped out of consciousness. At first it was difficult to be in that room, to see her in that state. But fortunately on my previous visit -- when she was doing quite well -- I took the opportunity to tell her how much she meant to me. I wept as I told her, but she was steady. She told me she wasn't afraid to die. This gave me a lot of peace as I sat with her during her decline. I'm enormously glad that I took the opportunity when I had the chance to tell her how much I loved her.
The chaplain assigned to us was terrific. She knew how to hold the space. She encouraged us to reflect on memories of my grandmother, which created a positive energy within the sadness. As the hours passed, I began to accept what was happening... and strangely... I began to embrace it. That is, when I stopped resisting her dying, I saw the incredible beauty and inevitably of nature emerge. I felt like I was in direct contact with the reality of life in a more powerful way than ever before. I then set an intention to be steadfast, positive and useful for my grandmother during her passing. I wasn't sure if she was cognizant of my presence, but in case she was, I wanted her to know that we were with her, that we were okay, and that she was allowed to leave us. I didn't want her to feel or hear resistance and denial. So I spent the night in her room just holding her hand and talking to the chaplain about the immense power of dying.
When her final moment came, we gathered around the bed and laid our hands on her. She began taking less frequent breaths until there were only a few gasps per minute. Then she took one last breath and that was it. In that moment, my grandmother left. I could see it. Her miraculous being vacated -- to where I don't know -- leaving her 106 year old body behind. We were quiet. It was shocking but it was overwhelmingly beautiful. There was nothing wrong with any of it. She died and was meant to die. I finally realized that death isn't a disaster.
I've come to feel that a necessary part of our life's work is to help our loved ones die -- to allow the endings of our lives to be beautiful, to be natural, to be peaceful. There will be sadness and tears, but when death is inevitable, we must learn to release our hold and let our loved ones move on, and then move on ourselves. With open hearts we can offer our loved ones back to the earth and into eternity.
