Companions on the journey

Some people's lives seem to be characterized by what I like to call 'divine interruptions', the unexpected phone calls or arrivals of seemingly random people who knock at the door and invite us to experience moments that turn out to be extremely positive. Strangely enough, or not, these interruptions seem to occur when we are most intently involved in some activity or the other, and they can be seen as major inconveniences, at least at first glance.

Thus it was that the phone rang today, and I was asked to visit with a patient at one of the local retirement homes. The true lesson in this experience came a few moments after I had actually completed the celebration of the Sacrament of the Sick. The patient's daughter, who was alone with him, asked if I could stay for a few moments. I really don't know what made me stop, but I did. We sat on either side of the bed, and spoke about the patient's love for music, his dedication to his family, his accomplishments in life, his loves and his challenges.

At a certain point, he began to cough, and I left the room for a moment to locate some more face cloths. The daughter called out from behind a curtain and asked if I could locate the nurse, and by the time I returned (only about 30 seconds later) I noticed a marked change in the patient's pallor. Within three to four minutes time, he was gone and I knew that I was meant to be there.

After I left, and as I continued to reflect on the experience, I couldn't help thinking that it is believed that even if a patient is not able to communicate verbally, even if all other senses seem to have been immobilized, the hearing is usually the last to go. I wonder how much of the conversation this patient heard. Was he comfortable enough with the fact that I was there, knowing that his daughter would not be alone?

No matter what we accomplish in life, or who we know, or what influence we have, when the final moment comes, and we must leave this world, it's really quite simple for some, and complicated for others. I don't think it's meant to be painful, but sometimes these things happen. When the passage to the afterlife happens peacefully there is a strange, almost eerie moment when I for one am aware that the two worlds are really not that far apart, and I find myself thankful for the experience of helping another soul make the journey.