Sitting with the Dying

As our group shared about why we chose to volunteer with the dying, mine came into focus. When was the pivotal point when it all came together?

It was taking care of my mother. She almost died, we did not think she would last the night and she slowly recovered. I went home to take care of her for six weeks. It was at the end of October, 2011.

When I got home to Malaysia, my mother was barely able to eat. After two weeks, she slowly recovered. One day she told me very seriously, pointing to the cement wall, “That is fake. Try it, feel it, it is fake. You can go through it to the house next door.” I looked at her and did not believe I was hearing right. “It is solid,” I told her. However, my mother was adamant, “The wall if fake, try it.” I made to punch it and showed her, – the wall is solid.

She started sharing. She was in a lot of pain. She could not stand the pain and willed her body to release her soul. She felt her soul travelling up and up where she saw Jesus and a group of dead people. Jesus said to her, “You wait here for the door to open. When the door opened, you can get through.”

She waited and waited. She waited a long long time. It took a long time before the door opened. When it opened, the dead people went through the door and she came back into her body.

While she was waiting, she kept asking my sister if the transportation had arrived. My sister shared that when I had phoned to see how she was doing.

Another time, she saw a prophet with long white beard standing by a post. “You know, it is one of those you see at car park. It goes up and down. When it goes up, a car goes through,” she described and went on, “The prophet lifted the post and a person went through. Whoever went through was dead. The prophet did it a few times and I waited. When it was my turn, the prophet did not lift the post. It was not my time, I was so relieved.”

Yet another time, she saw a coffin, an open coffin. And another prophet.

She asked the prophet who will close the coffin for her. She knew it was hers. As she got near the coffin, the prophet closed the coffin and told her it was not her time. “I was so glad it was not my time to die,” she recounted, with a shudder at the thought of dying.

One day she talked about a beautiful garden.

As I listened, I thought, “Ohmigod, all the time we thought she was dying and out of it, her spirit was traveling all over the place.” It made a deep impression on me.

She told me as she lay dying, her soul went in and out of her body. When the mother in law of my youngest sister was dying, my mother remarked, “Her soul must be going in and out.” She knew because she went through it.

I knew also from her account of the wall being fake that she had out of body experiences.

A few months later, back in the US and at work, I was called to a shift. I entered the house, and saw the patient. He was afraid to die and was sitting on a chair. One look at him and I choked with emotion, “My God, he is actively dying. They told me he is dying, they did not tell me he is actively dying.”

I took over the shift from the caregiver and sat by him. He appeared oblivious, in a state of coma. Every now and again he would moved restlessly. I would hold his hand and he calmed down. The hospice nurse came, saw he was in a state of coma and left to talk to his family. The Champlain came and the same thing. From my mother, I knew he might be in a state of coma but he could be actively traveling all over the place. I stayed by his side the entire 12 hours shift, leaving to do some light household work when all I wanted to do was sit at his side.

He was having difficulty even swallowing water. His children would come and tried to get him to swallow some water. I told them every time he swallowed water, he suffered and was in deep distress. I told them he was not able to swallow any water. I did wet his lips.

When it was time for me to leave, I told his daughter that whenever her father got restless, I would hold his hand and he would calm down. “How beautiful,” the young woman in her early twenties exclaimed. She went to her father and held his hand. I left.

Those experiences drew me to want to work with the dying. Not just the dying, but the actively dying. To sit with them and meditate, connecting with them in spirit as they make their transition from this world to the one beyond.

As I sat at the bedside of a woman at the Inpatient unit, I found myself thinking, “I have always been afraid of slow painful dying. I do not have to, not with hospice being available, taking care of me like they are taking care of this patient. They are so thorough and so careful. Helping the patient with palliative care.” The nurse came in while I was there and gave the patient some shots.

I thought of my mother, she did not have all that and suffered a great deal when she was dying. I ached for her.

I stayed in meditation. Now and again, the patient got agitated and moved, groaned, pushing saliva from her mouth. She appeared out of it, in a state of coma. Not once did she open her eyes. Nor did I expect her to.

One of her hand clenched tightly, gripping the bed sheet, the other open and restless. I moved to hold her free hand, she gripped it tightly every now and again.

I continued meditating and then felt a change in the environment. I felt a connection with the woman. I leaned closer, still holding her hand and meditated, mind and attention fixed on her. The hour went very fast. I bade her good bye and left. As I walked toward my car, I experienced it, the happiness and feeling of well being. My mind freed and my inner being liberated. Such is the effect of experiencing the ineffable with the dying.

Being with the dying brings me to the space between the living and the dead. Something ineffable, not seen but felt. So deep and so beautiful. It moves me deep within my being; everything still and quiet. Wrapped in deep silence. A place where I touch heaven on earth.

I entered the room of the inpatient unit, “Oh, what’s that smell,” was my first thought. It rather surprised me because the place is kept spotlessly clean. I looked around to see if the patient had catheter or something. She did not have any such medical equipment. I was a bit perplexed but let it go.

I looked at the dying patient, an elderly woman, eyes closed and mouth wide open. A part of me shrank back. At that moment, she was just that, an elderly woman lying there dying, mouth wide open, eyes closed.

I fetched a chair, greeted her, introduced myself and sat near her. In that moment, I ceased seeing her as just an elderly woman dying. I felt pulled into that “zone” and instantly felt connected to her. It is the “zone” I experience every time I am with an actively dying person. A zone where everything cleared and moved into insignificance. In that zone, nothing remained, there was only the dying person and I, filled with awe at the fact the person would be crossing over. Their time has come, mine has yet to.

And suddenly I felt like crying. A bit surprised it was happening, I controlled myself, expecting that feeling to pass as it usually does. Instead moments later, again I felt like crying. And again. I kept drying my tears and blowing my nose. “Tell me,” I asked the patient silently, “why am I crying? What is it with you that makes me feel like crying?” Finally, I allowed myself to cry the emotion out and then the emotion really left me.

I realized by this time what the smell was, the smell of one very close to death. I had experienced that smell twice before. The day before my husband passed away. And with another patient I sat with. The smell of that patient was so strong, even after a shower and change of clothes, the smell lingered. That always amazed me. Could the smell of the dying penetrate pores of my skin, I mused. And now this woman. I knew she was actively dying. That and the way her mouth was opened wide. Since she was actively dying, I decided I would stay with her the entire time left of my two hours volunteering with the dying.

I let my hand rest gently against hers so she would know I was there and meditated. Usually, it took a while for me to experience the energy in the air. With this patient, I got pulled into that energy almost instantly.

After half an hour, the doctor and social worker entered. As the doctor examined the patient, much to my surprise she opened her eyes a little though her eyes were glazed and unfocused. But she did open open her eyes; I had not expected that. She was not totally out of it. I felt moved to gently hold her shoulder with my hand. Inhibited by feelings of being self conscious, I did not. When they left, I did.

I stayed that way and meditated. I looked at her now and again. She looked so peaceful. I have always feared death. At that moment, had she taken her last breath, it would have felt the most natural thing in the world.

My shift ended. I said goodbye to her and she opened her eyes again slightly, unfocused but trying to see. She knows I am here with her, I thought, moved. I bade her goodbye again and took my leave.

As I left, a feeling of well being and happiness filled me. I felt like I was floating on the air, my mind cleared of all things, my entire being cleared of all things. However, I am no stranger to those feelings. I experienced it almost every time after I sat with the dying. It has a very therapeutic effect. That energy is cleansing.

Death for many might be sad and depressing. For me, it is a positive experience. I do not feel sad, instead, I find myself struck with awe. I do not see them as dying, I see them as moving onto the other realm.

Much to my surprise, the patient I had expected to die is still lingering on. The nurses’ aid told me she should have left a week ago and she has no idea why she is lingering on, between God and her.

I sat with her. Again, I felt deeply moved to tears which is a most strange phenomenon for me. Second time I sat with her and second time that happened to me. I have never felt moved that way, sitting with the dying. Not to tears yet it was not personal.

I moved faster from it and stayed in meditation with her.

She kept mumbling something, I strained to hear her but could not make out what she was saying. She slowly drifted into coma state.

I looked at her and meditated and felt a strong need to just close my eyes and experience that moment. I felt moved to a nice space. All clear, light and bright. I stayed in that spaced until the doctor came in to check on her and it was time for me to leave.

I continued staying in that space till I got home. I sate and stayed in it little bit more.

I do not understand most of it but there is no need to. I simply accept it.

Second time I sat with the client , again I was moved to tears. But both times it was not as intense. As I sat with her, experiencing the energy, it went from energy to light brightness. I stayed in that space the remaining of the time. I knew then it was where she was going.

A spiritual high infused me. I drove home and felt a strong desire to sit and stay in that deep recollection. I did just that, sat and stayed in deep meditation, praying for her.

On Wednesday, out of nowhere I felt moved to tears again. I was at a thrift store. It was around 12.30 pm. I took note of the time. She either passed away that Sunday or Wednesday.

She passed away on Wednesday at 12.30 pm.

She lay in bed, eyes opened, hand clutching a dog. The stuff animal had nice smooth soft skin. I thought I like to do that one day.

I pulled up a chair and sat next to her after introducing myself. After a while I saw her other hand was waving in the air. I moved and held that hand gently.

I had expected her to rebuff me because her demeanor was not welcoming. I was pleasantly surprised when she gripped my hand and hang onto it.

Every time I talked, she shouted-I cannot hear. I sat in silent meditation. She muttered she hurt she hurt she hurt.

After one and half hours I bade her goodbye. She held my hand and asked, tomorrow? I nodded yes. It was gratifying to know she knew I was there n appreciate it.

I do not believe she was close to dying. I did not experienced that intense atmosphere of someone in active dying.

2018

25th Thursday, 1.30 pm, I felt moved to meditate. It was so strong, I found I wanted to meditate only and nothing else. I stayed in meditation the rest of the afternoon. I noted the time. It was either for me, my family or the dying.

I used to think, God knows what I need and do not pray but I have since learned – prayers are necessary though God knows all our needs. I noticed that when I felt moved to pray for my house one afternoon at work. I got back and a text soon came in telling me I had an offer on the house. I realized from that, God was granting me my wish and I still had to pray for it. It was a lesson I do not forget.

Today, Sunday, 28th January, I went to the hospice. The nurses did not have any patient I could sit with and meditate. I sat in the prayer room and meditated. I prayed for all patients there when a desire to ask about Thursday’s afternoon came to my mind. I pushed it aside, I did not want to be a bother, asking the nurses about deaths. I prayed again and saw 8. Room 8, hmmm, I likely can sit with room 8 patient.

After half an hour, I went to the nurses’ station, they still did not have anyone. I went to one nurse and asked her, “Jeannette, I will not do this every time but did someone die on Thursday?”

She checked the book, “Thursday, 3 am.” I told her, “No, not that one.”

She said slowly, as though testing out the words, “1.30 pm. 25th January.”

“That’s it,” I told her. “Thursday afternoon, between 1.30 and 2 pm, I felt moved strongly to pray.”

“Room 8,” she told me. “She was in room 8.” I did not pay it much heed, registering the fact only the name is not familiar and I had not been in room 8. I did see room 8 in meditation.

It told me I did not have to sit with patients for them to let me know they were moving over when it came to me, those feelings of being drawn into deep meditation need not mean they reach out to me, it could be they were passing over and needed someone to pray for them and I was moved to pray for her.

I do not need to limit myself to those I have been with only, those who know me but everyone, those I know and do not know.

I did find, this time, volunteering to sit with the dying, I get into meditative trance easily. When I sit in meditation, that trance would take over.

As usual I did not feel anything on entering the room, and saw a woman on the bed. She was like any woman.

I introduced myself and pulled a chair to sit near her. I started meditating. I place my hand lightly against her body so she would know I was there. After a while, my mind told me, “you are with her, concentrate on her. You can pray for others outside of this shift but since you are with her, concentrate on her.” I did. After a while much to my surprise, her eyes opened slightly. I saw mostly white of her eyes.

She moved one hand, pressing one finger against the upper forehead, making a sound of distress. I moved closer and felt impelled to take her hand in my hand, leaning close to her.

I found myself watching her intently, as I stayed in meditative mode. She would breathe deeply, stopped breathing and that was when her eyes would open slightly. They remained shut when she was breathing loudly. I stayed close to her, feeling moved.

The nurse came in, I went to tell her that the patient appears in active dying mode, that she opened her eyes now and again. We heard a cry of distress. I quickly went to her, and this time held her hand in both hands. She opened her eyes wide and looked straight at me, yet her eyes were not focusing. I knew she was not able to see me. It was a long look, as she looked at me, I found tears running down my face. I was not crying. The tears simply rolled down my face. I comforted her. The nurse slipped quietly away. Her eyes closed and she started breathing again.

She would open her eyes a few times after that, her eyes looking upward, opaque, looking yet not seeing anything. With half hour left, I felt peace taking over. I knew then she was at peace. Though she opened her eyes slightly after that, she was no longer in distress. I stayed, 1 hour 45 mins with her and the time went very fast. I was like caught up in that space with her.

It was a unique experience. Later, I kept reliving that scene where she turned to look at me. Her eyes looking into mine yet they were opaque. I realized she knew I was there and was turning toward me. It was the only time she opened her eyes that wide. The rest of the time, it was a little, showing mostly white of her eyes.

I like to believe I am able to connect with them beyond time and space. With her, I almost believe I could and did.

I was having breakfast in my car, ready to go for my two hours shift at the hospice and felt a need to meditate. I will be going in soon enough, I told myself, not going with the urge.

I went in ten minutes later. I was in the kitchen when the urgency came to me, to pray. It was strong enough, I was all wired up, wanting to go immediately and sit down and meditate. I talked myself into taking it slow. I finished my work there.

The nurse directed me to a room, – the patient is actively dying. She knows I prefer to sit with those. I went in and found her son was there. Her face was a death mask, completely pale. I have not seen one so pale.

I stood and talked to her son, loathed to leave. I told him from my mother, I know she might look in coma but her spirit could be all over the place. Her son told me, he believes it and she likely has seen his father etc. I told him, it helps sometimes to tell them they could go. His son told me, both he and his brother had done that and still she lingers. I told him she could be afraid.

And from books I read on NDE, the other side is very peaceful and nice. I took my leave and sat with another patient. But my mind, heart and soul was with that dying woman.

I started praying for her. In my mind, I saw, I could have asked her son if I could sit with her. I saw myself taking her hand and sit meditating. I told Jesus, if he wants to, he could make it happen. It would require someone to come into the room and I could leave. To just leave and go to that dying patient was something I did not feel good doing. Too loud.

After half an hour, the nurse came in. I left and went to the dying patient. I did what I had envisioned. I asked the son if I could sit with her. He told me he would not mind it at all. I sat, took her arm gently in mine and started meditating. I felt it, that bliss. I like to believe that is where she was going or was at. 20 mins later, I felt it was okay to leave. I took my leave just as her other son came in. She died that day, I learned that, searching the obituary.

I am still learning what this is all about. With time and experience, I will get better at it. For instance, next time I experience that urge to pray, I will just tell God, I am praying for whoever was needing it there and then and continue my work at the kitchen. I usually get things done there and then I am through, I spent the rest of the two hours sitting with the dying.

I did not really sense anything going to the hospice this morning. I saw with a patient and meditated. After a while, I felt some emotion. I realized distrustful of my feelings and emotions, I had been walling them off. I asked Jesus’ light to fill me and opened myself out. The patient’s wife came. I went and sat with another.

He was restful until the nurse started giving him his meds. He became very restless. I sat with him, one hand resting gently on his shoulder, another placed where if he wanted to, he could grip it.

I began to feel strong emotions. I contained it until I was in the car, ready to drive back and found myself crying. The emotions released. I cried driving home, I wondered what it was about and realized death can be very painful. I had been so much on how awesome last moments can be, I failed to see the other side, how painful dying can be.

There are those dying in peace, their souls in peace and ready to move on. With these, they feel distant and I usually do not sense anything. I might sense a nice peaceful place. Now and again, I would pick up on emotions of those actively dying, but likely afraid to die, not wanting to die or have yet to accept dying. I believe that is when I pick up on their emotions.

This morning, I went to sit with a dying man. As usual, I got ready for meditation. I usually sit, meditate and pray, engaging in breathing. I prayed, looking at him now and again. I often watch the breathing of the patient. After a while, it came to me I was not hearing any breathing. I watched, his chest did not move. “Don’t tell me…..”

I put one finger to feel for his breath. Nothing. I went to call the nurse. He had passed on. I asked the nurse if I could sit and pray for a bit. I sat looking at him and praying. I have always been afraid of dead bodies. Not just afraid, petrified. Don’t ask me why I volunteer with the dying. It is calling. Just that, a calling.

I wanted to train myself to be with with a dead body and not be afraid. I experienced no fear. It was so peaceful. I sat and meditated on death. I felt very moved and prayed for him as his soul transitioned on.

My extreme fear of dead bodies happened when I was a child. One classmate suggested, “Let’s go and see the dead body of the grandfather of LM who just died.” We went. I stood at the door looking in. In the far distance, I could see the silhouette of the dead body. That was enough, I froze in fear and for months afterward was not able to sleep at night. The same classmate told me if I wash my face immediately after, I would not be afraid. I ran home and washed my face repeatedly. It got so bad, I found myself reciting the rosary during break time and dread evening falling. I recited so many Hail Marys, at the end, I often found myself mumbling the prayer. I do not remember when the fear left me.

When my grandparents passed away, I made sure not to look at their dead bodies and tried to shield my younger siblings from seeing the dead bodies, remembering what I went through. Whenever I heard sounds of funeral procession, I would park my bicycle and ran into the shop, not exiting till the procession had safely passed.

Yet today, I am volunteering with the dying. And experience the grace stemming from that.

11-25-18 I arrived at the hospice. The cna told me a patient is near death. She was very restless; afraid to die. I debated about going to her first or finished at the kitchen first. I usually check if coffee needs to be made and cleaned up a bit. I was very relieved to find there was little to do. Five minutes later, I hurried to the nurse. “There’s no need,” she told me, “the patient died”.

I felt a sense of loss, I could have been with the patient till she passed, I missed a good chance. That is what I want to do, sit with the dying at the transition, especially those afraid of dying. I told myself there will be others.

I told the nurse I like to go inside and pray. I read it is a good thing to do when a person dies. I went it, saw the patient, felt my heart beating in fear and beat a fast exit. The patient ‘s eyes were wide open. Mouth hanging open. I told the nurse, “Her eyes are open.” Mentally I thought no one would blame me if I do not go back there.

Just as soon as the thought came to me, I knew I have to go back in. I entered the room, and forced myself to stand before the deceased patient and looked into her eyes. They were dull, no life to them. I sat at a corner and started meditating. I could feel the energy in the air. It drew me deep into meditation. I went into a deep trance. The rest of the day, I felt something big happen. Examining it, I could think of nothing and realized it was likely sitting with the deceased patient.

“Have you been in that room?” The nurse asked me and continued, “she is so sweet, so much energy in the air.” I agreed. I was struck by her words. So she is able to sense the energies also in the room of the dying also.

Last shift, i did not have anyone to sit with. I asked the cna if there is a patient very close to death, she told me yes, a patient is on the brink of passing. I could sense it by strong emotions it evokes in me. I wanted so badly to be there but the family was with the patient and I was not able to be with the patient.

I sat and did long distance reiki for them and went into deep state of meditation. It was so deep, it was like in a trance. I felt completely removed from everything around me.

I found myself thinking of my own death, and feel a longing for that land. My mother told me a few months before she died that her mother came to her in a dream and said, “Mee Ing, it is time to go to your father’s house.” Afraid of death, my mother recounted it with a shudder and did not want to think on it. Her mother was so right, the life beyond is our father’s house.

There is public viewing of a pastor today. i thought i would not want to go when it came to me how interesting it is. On my hospice shifts, i like to sit with deceased patients and pray for them, while outside of it, i do not like to view deceased persons nor on youtube. it is like something come over me when i am on duty changing all aspects of death, dying, deceased bodies.

This morning I sat with a man who the nurse told me was not completely lucid. He was not. I sat and did long distance reiki. After a while, I fell into deep trance and went into a very nice place, high, bright, spacious light air. I like to believe it is where he was at. He looked as though he had gone on, removed from this earth. I stayed half an hour with him and then went to another patient.

Still steep in spirit with the first one, it was hard moving to another, I found my spirit still wrap in that deep trance with the first patient. I concentrated on the second. I continued in the trance but did not get transported. My spirit moved back and forth, here and there and did not take that leap upwards. I sensed the patient was still more earth bound than the former.

Whenever i sit with the dying, i would look at them and mentally see them alert and active. Last week, i sat with two patients. One, i could see the way he would look at me were he alert and on his feet. He would joke also, clever subtle joke. The second, he just looked at grouchily. Imagination or mental seeing? I do not know.

Similarly, with the first after sitting in meditation for a while, i felt transported to that higher space i felt to be heaven on earth. Was he in that space and I felt it? With the second, my soul did not take that leap upward. It hovered back and forth. Was the first already with one leg on the other side and the other still caught in this world, on this earth. I would not know.

I entered the room, the patient was in active dying, eyes not focusing with death rattle. I thought of my mother and choked. She had horrible death rattle and I was not there. It is one of my regret. She came back to life so many times, when she was really dying, we did not all rush back, the way we did in 1999 and then another two more times.

I sat and went into long distance reiki. She gets very agitated now and again. I felt very moved and found myself choking, tearing. I controlled it. I felt connected with her, strongly because she is crossing over.

Every time she gets agitated, I knew to put one hand on her shoulders, the other I let her grip my hand. I told her she is safe, she is ok, she is not alone etc. At such times, I know I am called to this work. Something taught me how to be with the dying.

2019

Sitting with the actively dying is grace filled.
Over time, one could sense if the soul is earthbound
Or more on the other side than on earth.
They are detached from everything.
Because they are starting on the other journey,
Which is more important and all consuming.
They are crossing over.
They could be filled with some apprehension, or peace.
But as they near the other side, ready to slip over,
Most of the time, they are in complete peace.
And we, with them, are able to feel that same peace.
The above is my experience.
Accurate or not, I do not know.
I just feel moved to write this.