A Slow Dying Observed

There's a house around the corner from mine where someone is dying. I'm sure of this because I used to be a hospice chaplain and I know the signs that it's happening.

Back in late January I noticed that a car was parked in front of the house every morning and then again in the afternoons. Then about a week later I was coming in from the office and saw a woman standing in the yard talking on her cell phone. It's ironic that she was smoking a cigarette and wearing nursing scrubs.

The next day I'd gone home in the middle of the day to grab a quick sandwhich and saw the next tell-tale sign: the delivery truck bringing the in-home hospital bed.

Every few days I see the elderly gentleman who lives there. He is usually in a wheelchair being pushed by a the woman in nursing scrubs and he is always holding an oxygen tank.

Every weekend there are lots of cars at the house. Some of them have out of state license plates, and I imagine those cars have brought family and friends in to pay last respects. Several times of week I see a nice Acura there and when it's there a man in his 40's is frequently in the front yard. He's well-dressed and always on his phone. He looks tired and burdened, but he's there. Is he a son? A nephew? A kinsman in some way?

I wonder how much longer my neighbor has to live. The in-home care providers are now there all day every day. I think how terribly sad it is for me to observe this death not even knowing his name. I've thought about stopping in to be neighborly, but figure I'd look more like a stalker or an estate hawk than a caring pastor.

What would I say anyway?

Anyone here dying? It sure looks like it from the street.
Can I help you with your oxygen? How some more Ensure?
Have you said your last goodbyes?
Are you seeing the spirits yet?
What is it like to know you are dying?

I wonder. What stories are being lost to the world because of this death? What wisdom do we lose when he is gone? Which of his relationships will go untended? Which will be restored? Who will be my new neighbors? Will I know them any better?

So it is, the ebb and flow of life laps at this man's front door, ready to flood the house and drown the life within. At just the right moment his light will be gone and he will leave, exiting the house - first in spirit, and then later, feet first in a body bag. I wonder if he knows this?

I suppose the real truth of this has little to do with whether or not he knows he's dying a slow death. The real truth lies in whether or not I know that I am dying a slow death.

Morbid thoughts, I know. Enough to make me want to really live. Very, very slowly.