22nd April 2021
1 year.
It was a year ago today that my beloved left this life.
Ros had been in considerable pain for several days. I'd begged the doctors to stay on top of the pain, but at best they were playing 'catch-up' with the pain medication.
Two days prior had seen a marked change. Her breathing had become more laboured and breathing would sometimes cease for up to ten seconds at a time.
At that time, even without an ability to speak clearly, but with strength that I didn't realise she still had, she drew me close and initiated a lengthy passionate kiss. She had always been such a great kisser. It had been one of our many pleasures together. But this, two days before her death, was her way of saying goodbye to me, because she could no longer use words to describe her love for me.
On the morning of her death, exactly one year ago, she was finally free of pain. Her laboured breathing, along with the classic death rattle, had ceased, and she was breathing gently, albeit shallowly.
Ros had previously expressed that she was not afraid of dying. She was sad about it but not afraid. But she did express a fear of dying alone, and so Ros's sister, my son and I kept vigil through these last days.
I continued to hold her hand, caress her lovely face, and speak to her. It's been said that the sense of hearing is the last to go, and so I believed that she could hear and understand me. It was just before 11:30 in the morning. I checked my emails and found one from our previous church minister, David Reay. He sends a daily reflection on a passage from the Bible, and after reading it myself, I said to Ros, "Oh, you should read David’s email. It's as if he had written it just for you."
His email was titled: THE JOURNEY HOME, and the Bible passage was Revelation 21:1-4
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.
I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, "Look, God's home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever." (NLT)
I read out loud to Ros the Bible passage and David's reflection, copied here with David's permission:
One day all that is wrong and broken in our world will be put right. One day every tear will be forever wiped away. One day, the rule of God will be perfected in his world. One day, our taste of heaven will cease to be just a taste.
That day is not yet, but that day is coming. This doesn't mean we sit back in misery, clenching our teeth while putting up with pain and hardship. We make the most of who and where we are while recognising this is not the whole story. John Powell, a writer in the Catholic tradition, puts it well.
"On your way to your eternal home, enjoy the journey. Let your happiness be double in the joyful possession of what you have and in the eager anticipation of what will be. Say a resounding 'yes' to life, and to love at all times.
"Some day you will come up into my mountain and then for you all the clocks and calendars will have finished their counting. Together with all my children, you will be mine and I will be yours forever."
Come Lord Jesus.
I believed that Ros had heard me read this to her - the scripture describing her imminent destiny. Within two minutes of having read that to her, she breathed her last breath and fell asleep for the last time.
I thought I'd prepared for that moment, but there is no way to really prepare for something of that magnitude.
Now, a year later, I am trying to move forward, but the grief is still raw, compounded by additional grief that has been piled on earlier this year.
Ros had told me more than once that she'd hoped that I'd find happiness again. I had found happiness again for a short time, but now happiness eludes me.
I am looking to God to help me through this coming year. The battle is his.
"Lord, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon You." - 2 Chronicles 20:12
by Andrew Host
Twelve months have passed since our love went away,
you've been missed every moment of every day.
The perfect marriage is a hard act to follow,
life seems so meaningless, empty and hollow.
I know that you said that you hoped that I'd find
joy in my life once you'd left me behind.
There has been some joy that was mine for a time,
but now out of misery I cannot climb.
There's no way to heal, no respite from the grief,
the pain is ongoing, there's never relief.
I am grateful for love of my family and friends,
but my craving for intimacy never ends.
Time is no healer despite what is said,
living alone is the hell that I dread.
I'm glad that I loved you, even just for a while,
It was all that I needed, your beautiful smile.
God said he'd be with me, in all that I do,
by my side through the trauma, I know that it's true.
I'll try to remember that God's love is real,
regardless of how sad and lonely I feel.
For the choir director: A psalm of David.
O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
How long will you look the other way?
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
with sorrow in my heart every day?
How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Turn and answer me, O Lord my God!
Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die.
Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, "We have defeated him!"
Don't let them rejoice at my downfall.
But I trust in your unfailing love.
I will rejoice because you have rescued me.
I will sing to the Lord
because he is good to me.
(NLT)
Music used under license from Freeplay Music, LLC, 1650 Broadway, Ste. 1108, New York, NY 10019 USA - freeplaymusic.com
Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright ©1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.