No Crystal Balls

   

Stepping from my car I was suddenly and acutely aware of the drop in temperature and the change in the wind's direction. I hurried my pace toward the now familiar farmhouse. Had it not been broad daylight the howling wind overhead in the red hackberry tree would have scared the dickens out of me.

"Poor little daffodils," I thought.  March in Oklahoma is such a Spring teaser. They'd once again been coaxed from the soil with warm sunlight just days ago and now they'd be lucky to survive.  Seems so unfair.

Once inside, mixed emotions pulsated through my mind.  Of course, I was glad to visit him, to see him.  He was one of my favorites. But not seeing him hurt like this. The dear Lord knows I never get used to this.

Sometimes we do "small talk". You know, talk 'bout the weather or such.  I try to take my cues from him. Today, he wasted no words.

"Now look here, Becki. You've been at this kind of work a few years," he said with a new seriousness.

"You see the shape I'm in. Can you give me an educated guess on how long I got?"

I threw my stethoscope in my nurse's bag.  I pulled the wooded antique chair up close to his bedside and took a deep breath.

"I guess because of what I've witnessed over the past 9 years I've learned educated guesses on "how long?" aren't worth too much, Carl. I've seen patients who I thought sure would be gone in a few days, live weeks longer; and some I thought would last months, suddenly go.  I believe it's all in the good Lord's hands and the disease process. We don't seem to be any good at calculating exact timing.

He squinted his eyes and very seriously replied, "Let's leave the good Lord out of this a minute and just tell me plain and simple how long I got. Or are you afraid of removing any hope I might have left?"

"Even the faintest of hope is worth something," I whispered. I simply had no crystal ball and I wasn't about to pretend I did.

"Why sure," he answered as he stood, heading for the dining room table. "We'll just take 'er a day at a time.  I understand what you're telling me.  If the good Lord sees fit for us to go through something like this...well, then..well, it's been like that since the beginning of time.  Sometimes people suffer. That just all there is to it.  I't just the way life is sometimes. Thanks for coming to see me today. You come back now before the week is over, you hear?"

The north wind nearly carried me from the back screen door to my car.  I was too frustrated to cry, so released it in a prayer.

"Please, please God, help us with what we can't fully understand on this earth to trust You with all that seems so very unfair and to remember You are always with us in all seasons of life."

Waiting Room Guest

It's not like I feel I'm in a foreign environment in a hospital.  I know the lay of the land.  I'm in a waiting area and observing. There is enough right before me to fill a lengthy prayer list.  Observing human behavior has always been one of my interests.
Some walk through those front doors like they own the place and others would give anything to be anywhere else.  There are those who would rather not sit next to anyone while waiting. Body language tells many stories.

I can see one dear soul as she gently sits in the chair balancing herself while not using either hand to lower herself in the chair. She is very pale and appears also very weary. We are all in this area waiting for directions, one by one, to move to another area for personal information to be recorded by the hospital before being seen.

At one point an employee is standing behind me calling out a name. I can see this woman I've previously described trying to edge her way to the end of her seat to try to stand. The employee gets louder calling out the name. The woman in the chair is weakly speaking, "I'm here."

Again the employee calls out the name. I turn to the employee and say, "She's right there." As I'm pointing to her.   "She's trying to get out of her chair."

The employee kindly asks, "May I get you a wheelchair?" The woman declined, was able to stand and slowly walk to the woman calling out to her.  She turned to me and whispered, "Thank you, I cannot use my arms to get out of a chair. I had a shoulder replacement and it became infected and they had to do another surgery and then my other shoulder as well."

I smiled at her and said, "I'm so sorry. I'll send up some prayers for you." She nodded in appreciation and slowly went her way. I sat there for a few moments and gave thanks for my healthy joints. And then asked for healing for her and peace to fill her as well.

The remaining crowd stared at me with different expressions.  I turned to my iPhone to check for messages. I tried to isolate myself a little.

You see, I'm an empath. And what that means is I feel another's fear, their anger, their passion, their love, their anxiety when I'm in close approximation to them. It can be a gift and it can be uncomfortable at times. Being a hospice nurse years ago was a challenge.  I would carry so much home with me and often sit in the shower on the floor of the shower as the warm water mingled with my tears. It took me awhile to learn how to be present and not take it all home with me.

We are all, at one time or another, standing with, sitting with, listening over the phone with, our friends or family or someone we remotely know reaching out to us for: a shoulder, an ear, some  comforting words. Years with others as patients or family or loved ones has taught me to be present and not try to "fix it". But instead to truly listen without formulating a reply before they even finish saying what they want me to truly hear. And sometimes they don't want a reply. They want me to just be still and really listen.

That waiting room was so full of so many emotions: fear, anxiety, happiness, joy, ....and I truly believe that waiting room was also full of angels.

Cleaning Closets

Something I found out while visiting patients and loved ones in my own family was that, at a point, they remove their masks, if they've been wearing one. They were less interested in putting on a face with a huge smile if they didn't feel like it.  Or if they were frightened they became less interested in trying to hide that from me as well. They became more 'real' with me without concern if I would still care about them or think less of them. The honesty was tangible, bold but not brassy.

Fred wasn't different in this respect.  As he was drawing nearer to his "passing over" (his words), he would attempt to sit up straighter in his hospital bed and command my attention.

"Say Becki, while you are working on my tired ole flesh I want to ask you something."

"Sure Fred, what's up?" I asked while trying to gently assess his 'wearing thin' skin.  I glanced his direction to see his expression. Smiling, but also with a note of seriousness, he continued, "Well, I was wondering if you ever woke up in the morning and felt bad about anything you did the day before that you wished you hadn't done.

"You know like, 'I wish I hadn't eaten those last three pieces of chocolate cake before bedtime. Or I wish I hadn't said that stupid remark to my sister when she asked me if I wanted to try some of her homemade soup with both of us knowing she can't cook!"

"Or 'I wish I could undo some of the pain I caused others in my lifetime...?"

I stopped what I was doing. I sat down next to his bed on the little gingham covered rocker his sister had put there for visitors.  Then I took one of his frail, thin hands and held it.

"Fred, there is a boatload of regrets I've spoken many mornings in my life."

"Well, Becki, it's just that lying here in this bed there are some nights I try to tell God I'm sorry. I wouldn't know how to find all the people I've offended in one way or another. But last night was a little different," he said.

"I went to sleep and I dreamed a dream that was as real as us talking right here and now.  I was asking Jesus to forgive me and then there he was.

"He said that he'd heard me and that he was aware of me saying I had so many skeletons in my closet, it must resemble a graveyard. He said, 'Fred, come look. I cleaned your closet.  You can rest now. Go back to sleep.'"What do you think about that?" he asked while looking at me with genuine concern.

"Dear Fred, I think that's the best dream anyone could ever have. Do you feel better about all those skeletons being gone?"

"I don't know if it was just a dream or one of them visions people talk about. Not sure if it's due to my cancer spreading or my pain medicine. But what I do know is that I'm not worried anymore. And between now and "then" I'm going to try not to put any more skeletons back in that closet. Hopefully my sister won't offer me anymore of her soup?"

Hanging on to an old grudge?
Nursing a resentment?
Still mad about something that happened 30 years ago?
Sorry about what you said while in a state of anger?
I have had all of these thoughts and feelings!
Advice from Fred: Give it to God!

Tell Me Something

"Tell me something", she said as she repositioned herself in her red and cream colored platform rocker

"Tell you something? What are you saying?" I asked her as I scooted the padded footstool closer to  her and sat where I felt I could hear her better and observe her facial expressions clearer and noticed the faint scent of Coco Chanel which made me smile. It was the scent of my Mother's favorite perfume.

"Well", she continued, "I already know you are a nurse, a Mother, and a Grandmother but I want to know you more. If we are going to do this death thing together I'd like for us to become better acquainted."

"Hmmm? OK. I love books and thoroughly enjoy reading. I am passionate about Mother Earth and the sky, the heavens, sunrises and sunsets and clouds and stars.  And I adore animals.  We have 2 rescue dogs at present.

I'm a vegetarian but occasionally I eat some fish, usually salmon. I love flowers and bushes that bloom in the Spring. I talk to everything: my houseplants, bugs, stars, the moon, trees (and occasionally hug them), rocks with a huge love affair with the big red rocks in Sedona, AZ.

I guess I just believe everything is alive. I collect feathers find on my walks by the lake. Is this enough info?"

"No, keep talking."

"I like music from the 40's, 50's, and 60's.  I enjoy watching old movies. I have a wild sense of humor. I don't like beets.

My heart is huge! I'm not ever going to win a cooking contest. And I can ignore dust for days!
I'm a people watcher everywhere I go: airports, restaurants, grocery stores, malls.

Because of some of my experiences with a few of my patients and some of my family members, I enjoy reading about Near Death Experiences. Jesus is my favorite Deity and I usually have an ongoing conversation with Him all day. I like where He said in Scripture that all the commandments and all the prophets books come down to this: Love God, Love One Another. I respect all religions and the gift of Religious Liberty. I'm also very fond of Mother Mary and angels.

I cherish my alone time and but I also love spending time with patients like you. Is that enough info?"

"Yes, for today."

She smiled and patted my hands.  The essence of her suddenly filled my heart. Her natural curly snow
white hair was combed to perfection and her crystal blue eyes and pale pink complexion revealed a lasting beauty her disease had not altered.

" Tomorrow, if I feel like it, I will tell you something about me. You know, Becki, everyone has a story in them.  But some people are too busy to listen.  I like you. You seem to have learned to love yourself, your authentic self. I'm tired. Come back tomorrow after lunch. Don't let my cat our when you open the door."

A DESIRABLE WOMAN

Several years ago a young man approached me at a social function.  He was new in our community. He said, "Mrs. Hawkins, where would be the best place to socialize to meet a nice young lady?"

I couldn't help but smile. He was serious and I felt honored he thought I might know. So I asked him, "Define 'nice young lady' for me."

"Oh, well, someone who is educated, enjoys her career, and enjoys an active lifestyle perhaps a jogger or a bicyclist or prefers yoga, also with a great sense of humor....that kind of nice young lady."

"I think you have answered your question. I'd join the local gym and the yoga class. And I think I'd see if there a young professionals group that meets on a regular basis. If you are also interested in someone kind as well I'd volunteer for a local service organization. Examples might be: the local animal rescue groups, an after school program helping students, the area ministry center that gives food and clothing and shoes, etc. to those in need, a church/synagogue/meditation of your choice."

"Does that help any?"

"Yes, I think so. I'm not too crazy about those online dating sites. My Dad met my Mom in high school and my grandparents met as neighbors when they were young. I'd like to find a woman that has a really kindhearted spirit and is drop dead gorgeous and is educated and loves her career and likes animals and is sensible about finances and .... Well, I appreciate you listening. My Mom says that woman is out there and I'll find her at the right place and the right time and I'll know without a doubt she's the one."

I was smiling again. "I imagine your Mom is right. Just focus on being you and doing what you enjoy in your career and in your leisure time."

I walked over to my husband who was finishing up a conversation with an old friend. When he turned to look at me I said, "Hello handsome!"

Forty Eight years this anniversary year was flashing memory after memory from the first time we met when we were at our lockers in High School 1968.  The guy I was "going with" at the time had a locker right next to my future husband.  This other guy said, "You know, I've changed my mind about going to the Sadie Hawkins's Dance with you Saturday night. In fact I don't think I want to go steady anymore."

Then he shut his locker and walked away. My future husband was standing there looking at me and said, "Hey, I'll take you to the dance." And that he did! He didn't even know me and yet was that kind to 'rescue' a shocked 16 year old.

I wasn't feeling very desirable in those moments that day. But sometimes I think The Design weaves and creates a little magic when we least expect it. To this day I still get excited when he says my name.

PRICELESS!!

It was over 30 years ago I found myself working in an outpatient oncology unit. Bill was spending the day with us to receive three units of blood due to his extremely low red blood cell count.

As the day wore on the chemotherapy patients had come and gone, and then we were alone.  Charting and stocking completed, I sat at his bedside.

He certainly didn't look to be 84 years old.  I was thinking he was in his late 60's perhaps.  There wasn't any sign of mental dullness and he was always chatting about current events and world news when he visited us.

His memory was quick and he demonstrated a really healthy sense of humor and his well of wisdom ran deep.
"Say, this hasn't been too bad today," he spoke with pleasure.

"Good! I bet you will have more energy this evening,"  I answered while removing his IV and putting a bandage on the insertion site.

"You know, they tell me, my hometown doctor, that I got a tumor inside me that is growing," he began again while folding his tanned weathered hands behind his head and gazing at the ceiling.  I sensed a familiar cue and got comfortable.

"Yeah, they want to operate and cut it out, but Doc Hill says it's not a sure cure.  It just might buy me some more time.  I told him that I appreciated the fact he wanted to help out but I said, "No thanks".

"I think he meant well and I think my kids were hoping I'd go for it.  But I've learned a thing or two in my days.  None of us are going to live forever. We are here, body and soul, for a spell and then we go back home.  My body has served me well and now age is just catching up with the evidence: hardening of my arteries, dim eyesight, slower moves, aching bones and my hearing is getting ornery as well. Thank God I still have my mind and a sense of humor.  You got to be able to laugh at yourself as you age, Nurse!"

"My wife passed over 15 years ago.  My favorite cow dog has gone on as well.  And yes, I believe animals get to go to Heaven too! I'm sharp enough to know this is my decision and no one else's.  I just hate disappointing my kids and grandkids.  I'm thinking of sitting down with them this weekend and explaining how I feel. What do you think?"

"I think that is a great idea!" I answered while patting his hand.

"Well I'm still here for a reason and the good Lord will call me when it's proper time. My Mother use to tell me that we have to trust Him.  She spoke of a blind faith.  She wasn't fearful about anything.  She said that when we live in fear, we aren't living anymore.  I want to visit with all of my family about that.  I was so busy being a rancher and a farmer I think I left too much unsaid.  I treasure what my Mother taught me.  I need to share some of that wisdom.

"Well, let's get out of here Nurse Becki.  It'll be getting dark before I get home and Rusty, my new dog, thinks he needs to be in his bed by the fireplace by dusk.  I'll see you next time.  Thanks for listening."

And with his goodbye he slowly shuffled off to the creaking elevator.  I never saw him again.  He decided not to continue the blood transfusions.

I remember hoping his family accepted his choice and lovingly attended to him the rest of his days.  And that someone took Rusty home with them when the time arrived.

His chat made me remember some of my time with my Grandparents and how they were always telling me stories of their youth and early married life with weavings of faith, hope, tears, trials and abundant love.  I wouldn't trade those chats for anything! Priceless!

This is a crazy time in history it seems where people text or twitter instead of sitting down with one another and having face to face conversations.  I appreciate looking into someone's eyes when they are talking to me, watching their body language, while I nod or smile or look surprised at what they are sharing.  If your parents and grandparents are still living, please let me encourage you to go visit them face to face as often as you can and invite them to tell you some of their early memories! Priceless!!

Casting Stones

We were sitting in a coffee shop discussing how quickly life goes by. My young friend was talking about all she hoped to accomplish in her journey here on Earth. She didn't really want anything but for someone to hear her. She was saying she wasn't comfortable in her own skin. She wanted to move up in the company where she was employed, increase her income, get back a smaller size in her clothes, and then she stopped talking as another woman about her age walked past us to order her coffee.

My friend leaned closer to my direction and whispered, "I heard Cathy is behaving in inappropriate ways in public recently. She has had outbursts of anger and said some pretty strange words to total strangers in a parking lot! I heard her husband is horrified. Can you believe that?!"

I took a deep breath and smiled. The woman whom she was referring to exited the coffee shop with her latte. My friend gave me a look of suspicion. "What are you smiling about?"

I sat my cup down and pulled my chair closer. "We don't know what all is going on in her heart. Maybe she's fighting hormone imbalance, or her marriage isn't perfect, or her Mom's health is failing, or she's having financial woes... We don't know. We can't judge her. Or anyone as far as that goes.

My friend sat up straight and with wide open eyes looked at me and answered, "Why are you defending her?"

I smiled again with my reply. "Who are we to cast stones? What if instead we just quietly in our own prayer closets bring her name to God and Jesus and Mother Mary and her angels and her family that has crossed over and request that she may know peace and answers in her time of turmoil or heartache?"

"But you aren't Catholic! Why bring Mother Mary into this?" My surprised young friend said.

"Well, neither is Mother Mary! And she hangs out with Jesus on a regular basis! Its not about being Catholic, or Baptist, or Jewish or whatever your religion is! It's about praying for someone instead of talking about them or judging them.

I gently placed one of my age spotted, wrinkled hands upon her young hand while leaning in even closer and whispered, "Because I am one who formerly had stones aimed at me and I formerly threw them myself at others."

"Our duty is to pray for one another and use our stones to build a rock garden. No one knows another's heart or story like God does. We Are beautiful souls here living in these temporary bodies experiencing Life. As one of my patients'  family members told me, "Becki, this is Earth School. Pay attention to the lessons before you and learn. And bathe every soul in your path with as much Love and Light as you can. Because one day in your Life Review you will know the effects of it all in everyone you smiled at, helped to cross the street, held open the door for, bought their supper, forgave their anger towards you, held their hand as that last breath was exhaled....and the same too if we wounded anyone with a frown, a discouraging look, an ignorance, ....."

I think I remember reading, "He who is without sin may cast the first stone." I'm thinking we can build many very nice rock gardens!

My friend patted my hand and quietly said, "Ok! Now I need to rethink my day! And you are crazy and I love you!!"

VISITING THE OTHER SIDE

I have been absent from this blog since October! So sorry! I had surgery and then just simply got busy with Life.

But I received a message that I needed to get back to writing and sharing! So today I want to share this post from my YouTube video - Becki Hawkins/Nurse Shares 30 Years. I love reading the comments, especially the ones with stories they want to share. When I read this one, I connected with this gentleman and asked for his permission to share this with you. He agreed! So, enjoy! Warning: I am writing this word for word and he is not holding back with his true expressions.

"When I was 18, I was very suicidal.  I was drinking and drugging.  I would pull out in front of big trucks and let them just barely miss me.  I was reckless and desperate.  I would spend hours in bed staring at the ceiling.  I hated school. I hated being broke and I hated the idea of getting a job.  I had had many jobs already and was not at all looking forward to working for the next 40 or so years.  My mother was mean and my father was already going senile.  He was 53 when I was born.  One night I had a dream.  The dream was that I was a fortyish year old cop in a town of less than 1000 in a tree filled little hick town in the late 50's.  I was a cop for 20 years or so.  I became a cop because I didn't want to be drafted back when WW II had started.  I had a bit of a belly and rather enjoyed my easy cop life.  I was married to an introverted wife and we had a son and daughter both in high school.  I grew up in that town and had known my wife since I was a small child.

I had a lot of pride.  I had a strong sense of morality.  I wanted to treat everyone fairly and I prided myself in never having removed my pistol from the holster.  I felt that most of the people of the town respected me.  I had inner turmoil though.  The town butcher used to park his delivery truck illegally and I would over look it for I didn't want him to hate me.  I liked to eat meat and he gave my wife good deals and cuts.  I'm sure it was so I would let him slide with his parking.  It was not an agreement I had with him but I "got" it.  It drove me nuts but I didn't want to pay extra for bad cuts of meat either.

One day I got a radio call about this 17 year old kid that was causing trouble again.  I had run-ins before with him and went to his house to take him back to jail or wherever.  His house was out in the sticks a bit.  There were lot of tall trees on an acre or two of land and an old house where he lived with his alcoholic uncle or grandfather.  I had a rookie partner with me.  I had my rookie knock on the front door while I went around back.  As soon as I got to the back of the house the kid was standing there about 10 feet away with a double barreled 12 gauge and shot me in the belly with both barrels before I could pull my pistol out.

I fell down on my back immediately on the back porch and he ran off into the woods with the shot gun.  I laid there looking up at the tree tops and blue sky thinking I was probably going to die right there.  My partner came running around the back and stood over me.  He moaned and then started to throw up.  I'm thinking, "Call an ambulance you idiot!" Well he finally does but the can't stop being sick and I just lay there waiting for help.  I'm surprised it doesn't hurt more.  When the ambulance comes they come with more cops and even the chief.  The paramedics look at me and don't do anything for me.  People are just looking at each other and talking.  This is when I see a beautiful woman walk to me and stretch out her hand to me.  She says, "Take my hand if you want to come with me."(I'm crying as I type this now). I say, "Lady, I need a doctor." She said, "The doctors cannot help you. Take my hand if you want to come with me." What choice did I have?  Everyone else was ignoring me.  I looked back at her and said, "Shit, I'm dead ain't I?" She said, "Do I look dead to you?" I said, "No, you don't look dead at all." She said I could stay there or go with her.  "Sure, I'll go with you."

We started to float up in this 'gentle twister' with her eyes on me and my eyes all over her.  She seemed to be humored by my attraction to her.  It took a couple minutes to go up the 'twister' and I was still holding her hand when we landed on this cloudy plain.  I looked into the distance and started to see maybe a hundred people in the distance walking slowly toward me.  Slowly, I started to recognize them.  They came and hugged me or shook my hand.  I talked a little to all of them.  I recognized them all but not necessarily from my life on earth.  I recognized them from 'different' lives on Earth and some from never on Earth.  This went on for an hour or so and then that lady came to me and said, "The counsel would like to talk to you.  Would you like to meet them?" I'm thinking "Council? Oh shit! Judgment day!" But I also thought it was better to go now while people were still feeling sorry for me than go later after the 'killing' had been forgotten.  I was looking for some mercy.  So I went with her to this rather informal panel of elderly men, maybe five, and stood before them.  They said, "Don't be so alarmed, we just want to ask you a few questions." I said, "OK shoot!", so they wouldn't forget what just happened to me.  They asked me, "So, what is it like on Earth?" I wanted to say it was a sinful place but I thought it smarter to say, "Ah, it's pretty crazy down there.  There are a lot of really messed up people that need a lot of help." They were very surprised by my comment and very pleased.  The man in the center said, "Well, what happened to you down there?" I said, "Didn't you see what happened to me? That damn kid shot me to death!" And their smiles disappeared.  He said to me, "What do you mean by, he shot you to death?" I'm a little taken back and I said, "The kid took a 12 gauge and killed me and now I'm here!" A little disappointed, he asked me, "So, do you think you are dead?" Now, I knew something was up.  I was mad at this kid.  He had shot me point blank and ran away leaving me to die, and for what reason? I was not about to give up my anger and lose my deserving mercy from God.  I said, "Yes, he killed me.  I'm dead and that's why I'm here now." Shaking their heads they asked me another question.  "If you are dead how is it possible that you are talking to us? Do you think WE are dead too?" I retorted, "Well, I guess so.  Isn't this the place where dead people go?" They started to look at each other in dismay and I heard them say to each other, "Hey, look at me.  Do I look dead to you?" and "No, you look just fine. Ah, do I look dead to you?" and "No, you're looking o.k. to me too." and they chuckled a little.  I was getting pissed but they had one more question.  He asked me, "What do you think should happen to that kid?" I said, "He should be punished for killing a police officer." They said, "Well, it's been nice talking to you and we hope to talk to you again soon." I thought, "Cool, I'm out of here." And I went with the lady out of there.

She took me to another place and asked me if I wanted to speak with God.  Horrified by the thought of facing God, I said, "Maybe later, he must be very busy."

She asked me, "What do you want to do now?  Do you want to go back to Earth?" I said I was worried about my wife and kids.  She asked me if I would like to see how they were doing and I said, "Yes".  I took her hand and before I knew it I was at my own funeral.  It was outdoors in the little central park and there was a big closed coffin and I was wondering how all this could be happening already.  She told me that time was an illusion and that we could go anywhere in time.

I looked at the coffin again and saw my wife kneeling at the coffin balling her eyes out.  Immediately I was devastated.  She was so sad for me.  I could 'hear' her thoughts. She was truly sorry for me and not so much for herself or the kids.  I could hear her thinking how brave I was and how she always knew something like this might happen because I was too brave and proud to pull my pistol out.  I was shocked because I had always thought that she looked down on me and didn't have confidence in me.  Instead I find out she looked up to me because she saw I was a brave and true cop.  I started to scream at her that I was right here. "I'm alright, I'm right here! I'm fine! Don't worry!" But she could not hear me.  I looked at the lady (my guide) and said, "Why can't she hear me?" My guide said, "Because she is listening with her flesh and you are but speaking with your Spirit.  The flesh is weak and cannot hear the Spirit." I was devastated but my guide said she would be alright.  The state made sure the families of killed police officers were well taken care of...financial wise.  I heard my children thinking that they were happy I was killed because they could now go to college instead of being stuck in that small town.  I could hear the rookie cops thinking I was an old fool who should have been more careful. I thought those rookies looked up to me.  I guess I was a fool.  I heard the chief's thoughts too.  He never seemed to like me but he was actually impressed that I was a true blue cop. I was just as shocked by everyone else in the town.  Their thoughts were shocking.  I wondered how I could hear every one's thoughts.  My guide looked at me without talking.  She telepathically told me that the Spirit hears everything.

We left my funeral and went back to...who knows...outer space like.  She held my hand and we floated there for awhile.  I was shook up but not as shook up as I thought I would be.  I thought about how I told the council I was dead and how I tried to tell my wife I was o.k.  I thought a little about my unloving kids.  My guide asked me where I wanted to go next.  I said, "Well, I sure don't want to go back to Earth.  What else have you got?" She said that there were all kinds of places to go.  Not just Earth but back to the council, or to go see God or go see some other worlds, or we could even stay right there. I said, "Other worlds? There are more worlds?  I'd like to see some other worlds. What have you got?  She said she would take me to the next world that was one step from Earth towards Heaven to see how I liked it.  In an instant we were standing on a grassy area looking around at what looked like the Earth but with a lot fewer buildings.  The weather was 73 degrees and sunny.  I was told it did not vary very much.  There were trees and blue skies.  There was an outdoor concert nearby and hundreds were just hanging out on the grassy hillside listening to the bands.

I'm like, "So, this looks awful familiar.  Is this the same as Earth?" She said, "It's a lot like Earth but it is different too." I said, "Well, what's to do?  Do they have any arcades here?" (This is weird because if I was in 1958 or so, why would I be asking about arcades?) She walked me to an arcade place that was empty of people but full of arcade machines.  I walked up to a PAC Man looking machine and asked her for some money.  She said, "Oh, there's no money in this world.  Everything is free." I wondered how this place was staying in business or even why it was in business.  She told me the builders just really liked arcade machines.  So I'm looking at this screen and it is a guy walking down the sidewalk with a flower in his hand. She told me to hand the flower to a person walking the other way.  I hit the button and the person got a flower but now I had two flowers.  I handed another flower out and now I had three flowers.  I handed three flowers out and now I had six flowers.  I said, "I don't get it?" She said, "The concepts of winning and losing are not here in this world." I said, "Well then, how do you finish the game?" She said, "You are finished when you don't want to play anymore." It was a rather boring game and I ended up quickly with so many flowers I couldn't see my player anymore for all the flowers. I knew quickly why no one was at this retarded arcade.

We walked out of the arcade and I asked her about where I would live as in, what kind of house I could have. She said that I could have any house I wanted but that most people don't live in houses in this world.  Most just live in the parks.  I'm thinking, "Bums?" She showed me that I could build myself a mansion with not my hands but with my mind.  We talked about walls and doors and floors and as I thought about what I wanted they came to be.  Soon I had a rather nice home and I asked her why more people didn't want a house.  Didn't they like to have their own place and have some privacy?  That's when she put her hand through the wall.  She explained that I could have a house but that I couldn't really have any privacy.  She showed me how people could walk right into my house no matter how many walls and locks I put up.  I asked her, "Well, how do I keep people out of my house?" She said that all I could do was put up signs asking people to not come in.  I felt a wall and it seemed solid enough.  She said now imagine your hand going through the wall, and sure enough it went through the wall.  I said, "How come I don't fall through the floor?" She said, "Because you believe you won't."

So, I'm a little perturbed again.  "Well, isn't there a police force that arrest trespassers?" She said, "Well, we have something much like a police force but instead of punishing people when they act badly, we try to help them." I said, "Why not just throw them in jail?" She said, "Well, if you ask them to they might stay in jail but they can always just walk through the walls." "Great!" I said sarcastically.

"Well, how about a family?  Who will my parents be?  How do I get into this world?" She said sheepishly.  "Everyone is your family.  God is your Father and you are already here in this world.  You don't need to be born into it." I asked about death and she said, "There is no concept of death here either.  You just leave whenever you want to." "Well, what about money?" I asked.  She said, "There is no money.  Everyone is equal here.  There is no concept of individual possessions here." I said, "You mean to tell me that if I work my ass off, the guy watching TV all day without a job has the same standard of living as me?  She said, "Yup, everyone is equal."  I said, "Well, what about sex?  Do they have sex here?" and she said "There is something like sex here but it is not with bodies.  It is much more a mental engagement and we feel is far more intimate than sex on Earth." And that did it for me! "Get me out of here!" I said.  In an instant I was floating in black space with her again. I asked her if  they had another world that did have walls and she said that there were plans to make another world even more 'denser' than Earth but the actual building was not started yet.

I was furious.  I didn't like Earth and I didn't like the world of sexless, socialist, lawless, family less bums in the park world either.  She asked where I wanted to go now and in a childish fit I said, "I don't want to go anywhere! This sucks!" So she said she was going to leave me here to think things over and that she would be back if I needed her and poof, she was gone.

I'm floating in black space by myself and I look around and I don't even have a body anymore.  I feel safe for some odd reason but I'm furious and I'm bored.  I float for hours holding onto my anger.  Once in a long while some stranger stops by and asks me what I'm doing out here.  I say, "Earth sucks and so do the other worlds." I knew them from like 20 lifetimes ago on Earth and sure as shit, they were going back to Earth.  I think I floated out there for 3 weeks without a body while every once in a while communicating with passing strangers with just just telepathy.  I couldn't see them or hear them but still we knew each other's presence and thoughts.

Finally, my guide comes back and says, "We think we found a family for you on Earth.  Won't you at least come and look?" Well, I'm bored to tears, and so I agree to look but warn her she is wasting her time.  She says, "Just look. You have no obligations." I think its another chance to complain and I do miss her and so I go with her.  I know black space isn't going anywhere.  It'll still be there when I get back.  She whisks me away and I'm looking at this 'screen' with another person (the screen operator) and I see an earth and people and stuff.  My guide says, "This will be you.  This will be your sister and this will be your father.  This is where you will live, in California by the beach.  This is where you will be working.  You will make a lot of money and these are some of your many girlfriends you will be having lots of sex with.  One drawback is that this will be your mother.  She is rather difficult." I was very impressed with the bikini clad tanned bodies I was offered but I said, "What else have you got?" She said, "Oh, that's all. If you don't like that I will just take you back to where you've been hanging out.  I'm thinking she's got me.  Bikinis, money, Southern California Beaches or black space...I say, "OK, but I don't want to be killed again." She said, "Deal! We will send some angels with you." I'm thinking and I say, "Cool, I'll do it." And she asks me "What do you want to accomplish while you're there? I was thinking about nailing all those suntanned hotties but I said, "I want to do God's will." She said, "Excellent! It will be done!" And they sat me in this tub like thing and I went alone down this clear water slide tube and all of a sudden I'm in a dark and small room.  I realize I'm inside my new mother and its already time for delivery.  I try to make it quick and as painless for my new mom as possible.  I come out quickly.  The doctor and nurse are there.  Everything goes smooth.  I get some sleep.  The next day I'm eating bottles of delicious milk.  A beautiful nurse comes by and straps me to this chair.  I think this is weird and she starts cleaning my little penis.  I'm think, "The fun already starts!" She walks away and this man comes in and before I know it he's cut the little foreskin off me.  It hurts and already I don't trust beautiful women anymore.

I woke up from my dream and got out of bed and stared at my bed a few moments and wondered, "What the f**k did I just dream.  I went downstairs and told my mom that I think I might have remembered being born.  I described the quick delivery, the doctors and nurses appearance and the way the room looked.  The nurse had a big black beehive hairdo.  My mom said that it was all exactly like how I described it and wanted to know if my Dad put me up to this little gag.

I was weird for a week after that dream.  There were so many weird messages in it.  I think the most important message was that I didn't really want to die.  I wanted to be on Earth.  I got a job soon afterward at an aerospace company making good money for the next 21 years.  I took up surfing and met a lot of women.  I got ahead and I got head.  It was just what I came here for.

Oh and that little thing about doing God's Will.  Ya, I got to do that too.

I'm ready for the next world now.  I can't wait to just sit in the park and listen and play with the bands in the park.

I know there is a far greater intimacy with people than just sex.  I've experienced the messages I received in the dream.  That dream had a hundred if not more lessons in it I would learn later in life.  I've even had telepathic communications with other people and the Holy Spirit.  I know God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, my Guide and my Angels go everywhere with me.  I know everyone I meet is my family.  I know that after I die, I won't be dead.  I know that to give is to receive.  I know Karma.  I know that when people behave badly, that it is wise to help them instead of punish them."

I'm so grateful he decided to share this with us!

THE COWBOY AND CHEMO

October 17

So today for my Facebook Family daily Month of October post I want to share one of the chapters in my book: Transitions:A Nurse's Education About Life and Death. Chapter 21, page 55 - The Cowboy and Chemo. I thought I'd blog it and share with you as well. Peace and Love and Light to each of you!!

One of the best bits of wisdom shared by more than one of my patients over the years was a question posed to me like this: "What kind of footprints do you want to leave behind on this Earth?"

I was working in an Oncology Outpatient Clinic in Tulsa at the time I first heard those words.  Samuel was in a brown faux leather recliner with his swollen feet propped up while I was studying his compromised veins for one suitable enough to start an IV that would carry the caustic chemo to him safely.

He was quieter than usual and seemed to me to be "dealing" with something that day, more than where he was going to go after his chemo.  He rarely had any nausea and wanted to go out to eat while in the "big city".

I found the precious vein and got the IV going.  I put on my gown and gloves, started the pre-meds, and was arranging my little bedside table with his chemo, tape, and a syringe when he spoke.
"Becki, what kind of footprints do you want to leave behind on this Earth?"

"Huh?" I looked up a little surprised and asked.

"Well, I been thinking.  Just in case this doesn't come out okay and I might be headin' out of here sooner than later, I was wondering what I might be remembered for while I've been on this ole Earth.

"The only words my neighbor on the west end of the farm ever hears from me is me cussing those cows on a regular basis.  My wife's Mother sees me leave the room right quick when she comes over for another visit.  My kids seldom hear a word out of me less it's aggravating them about stuff like, 'Did you do your homework? Did you feed those steers?  Did you close that gate?  Did you help your mother with getting that feed sack out of the trunk of the car?  And all I ever do in church is walk in, sit on the back pew, give them a couple of dollars, and leave before the preacher quits saying his final prayer.  Nice guy, but he sure like to hear himself talk!"

"Why Samuel, you've always been very nice to all of us up here", I said.  "I can't imagine you've left too many bad footprints." I said as I patted his other hand.

"Oh, shucks, who's gonna be rude to you girls! You have the needles!" he said with a huge grin.

"Okay then, Samuel, what would you do different?" I asked while slowly infusing the medications.

"Well, that is what I've been dwelling on here lately.  I'm not a religious sort of fella by any means, but I do like God.  I think God is okay.  I've just never been too fond of some church folk and some ministers.  They aren't all bad, but some of  'em talk outta both sides of their mouths!

But now I'm rethinking a little.  Church isn't for perfect people.  There aren't any. Church is for all of us that want to go there. I might cuss a little and the person next to me might be a self-righteous snob.  We BOTH can sit on that pew.  I'm going to work on not judging any of them anymore and I'm going to start putting a five dollar bill in that collection plate! And I'm gonna let that preacher shake my hand before I run out that door.

"And I've decided I'm going to quit yelling at my kids.  I want them to have some good memories of me.  I'm going to make an effort to sit down with all the family at dinner instead of eating in front of that TV with my old Roy Rogers TV tray.  They're good kids.  And I couldn't have a better wife.  I need to tell her that, I reckon.

"Now it might take me a few days to improve on hanging out with my mother-in-law some more, but she too means well.  She's not a really bad sort.

"And I think I'm going to drive the pick-up truck over to the neighbor's house and tell him how much I appreciate him chopping that ice on the pond for my cows a few weeks ago when the kids were in school and my wife was at work.  I didn't have the energy to swing an axe.  He just got out there and did that for me and never said a word about it.  I hope I'd have done the same for him.

"Another reason I started in thinking about all of this was because we went to a funeral the other day and there was standing room only in that little church house.

"I can tell you right here and now that our friend was making the finest footprints here on Earth you've ever heard tell of.  Not a soul didn't like him and respect him.  There's never been a doubt about how he felt about his God and his family and his community.  And same goes for his church and his neighbors.  He had a dairy farm, wasn't wealthy by any means, worked from sun up to sun down and still took the time to share what he had with others, whether it was milk or green beans or corn or okra or tomatoes from the garden.  You should have heard the testimonies given at that service.  His preacher hardly had a chance to preach due to so many needing to say what this man meant to them.

"I was sitting there on that back pew in that service embarrassed to think, 'Who'd stand up for me?'


I just sat there after finishing the chemo and glanced around the room.  Not a dry eye was to be seen.  The four other patients in recliners and their family members were blotting their eyes with Kleenex.

I pulled him up close and whispered, "Do you know what you have done for so many today with this visit?  You have preached one of the finest sermons any one of us has ever heard! You, my dear friend, have left GOLDEN footprints here today."

He quietly got up after I put a band aide on his IV site. He put on his sweat-stained cowboy hat, politely nodded at all those he passed, and went to the elevator.



So often these dear souls made me think, 'How do I want to be remembered?'

THE POWER OF TOUCH

I was working in a smaller big city hospital in the outpatient oncology department many years ago. We had been giving Jim chemo for a big cancer in his brain.  He made me smile every time he got off the elevator with his wife.  He was over six feet tall and weighted over 250 pounds (in the beginning), and his face was a rosy color with a huge smile.  He always wore bib overalls, a plaid short-sleeved flannel cotton shirt, and worn lace-up boots.  Jim's wife, Belle, followed him with pride and said less than he did.

"Good morning, girls! Who wants to draw my blood today?" he beamed like it was an honor.

"I will! It's my turn.  Come over here and sit in this recliner and we'll get started," I said eagerly.

The great thing was how large and giving his veins were.  The scary thing was that after I got the blood in the tube, white matter rose to the top of the blood.  I had never seen that before meeting him. The other nurse working there, who had been my mentor when I first starting my career, told me that it was fat in his blood.  She said, "Becki, we aren't worrying about that at this point. We are just trying to slow down his tumor's growth.  He knows, but he still stays positive and cheerful."

And of course she said this to me away from ear shot.

So, every week he came for his lab work and his chemotherapy for four weeks and then he would have a week off.  Never once did I not see him smile getting off that elevator.  But, as time passed, he quit wearing his lace-up boots and instead wore his house shoes.  His overalls were hanging on him.  Nonetheless, he kept showing up with his positive attitude.

He was admitted to the hospital for a blood transfusion and IV antibiotics for an infection he couldn't get rid of with oral antibiotics.  I headed up the back stairs to go check on him one afternoon after we had finished seeing patients.  I peeked into his room to see if he was sleeping.  He turned and smiled.  "Come on in here.  How is everyone downstairs? Look at this mess I'm into up here.  They are giving me blood in one arm and medicine in this arm and now they're wantin' to give me some drink to help me gain some strength and weight. That stuff tastes really bad! I don't think too many folk that need it are going to like it.  They better come up with something a mite different." His wife grinned and shook her head.

"So, how are you feeling?" I asked as I sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand.  His wife got up and excused herself to go down to the cafeteria.

"Well, to tell the truth, I'm a little concerned, but my faith is strong, and I know my Lord will see me through this, one way or the other.  You can't throw your faith out the window if everything isn't going exactly like you want it to.  God has never turned his back on me and I'm not turning my back on him.  And, truly, I think these doctors have given me and the wife some more time.  But, before I forget it, I want to tell you what a joy it has been for me to come see you girls all this time, even though it was for treating my cancer.  I looked forward to every visit and getting to talk to those other patients and their families.

"The thing I want to say is this.  Thank you for treating me like I was the most important patient you had every visit.  Now I know you girls treat everyone of us like that.  But no one but my wife has ever touched my hand with as much compassion as you girls do.  Some of the kinfolk have acted like I have a contagious disease, and act like they might catch my cancer from me, if they hugged me or shook my hand.  Isn't that the strangest thing?  Bless their hearts.  They don't know no better. Somebody ought to write a book for the public to have a better idea of how to treat their friends or neighbors or family who has cancer."

I leaned over and with as much gentleness as possible, hugged him, and kissed his flushed cheeks.  He smiled from ear to ear.  "Aw, Becki, thanks.  Thanks for everything." I nodded and said, "No, thank you.  You have been such a gift to us downstairs.  You bring such positive energy everywhere you show up! You have blessed us and the other patients.  God's love is beaming out of your whole body."

"Aw, Becki, shucks.  Don't go on like that.  It's embarrassing." He grinned from ear to ear with a brighter red face now.

We prayed together and I slowly made my way back down the stairs. I was praying that all of us would remember not to be afraid to pat a hand, touch a shoulder, give a Holy Hug when appropriate.

THE UNEXPECTED

It was a lovely day in Vancouver and we were looking forward to a visit to Granville Island to explore the market, examine and be awed by the vintage boat show, relax and stroll around in the perfect weather.

The water taxi carried us to our destination and we scrambled up the steps and began our tour. The flowers were intoxicating, the arts and crafts didn't disappoint, the booths were endless it seemed with exceptional art, food, crafts, coffees....you name it!

As be began to make our way down to the water taxi station suddenly a sound rang out like a cannon had been shot. I twirled around to find my husband. Was it a gun? Was it part of a show? What was that noise?

Then everyone was screaming and pointing toward the water before us. There was the body of a gentleman floating on top of the water with his shoes next to him. I was trying to take it all in. Then my husband pulled me close. He had seen him hit the water and his shoes fly off. He had jumped from the bridge above us, a very tall bridge.

"But let's do something! Let's swim out to him! Maybe he's not gone yet! Somebody help!" These were mine and others near me, words. But the people in charge of the water taxi tried to help everyone understand the Coast Guard was on the way and we were not to jump in the water. One man was furious screaming at the young girl, "Why won't you motor out to the man and pull him out of the water? Why won't someone do something before the Coast Guard gets here?" He was storming up the stairs back to the market.

I returned my gaze to the man right there before us. He was whiter than white, no sign of air movement, just slightly bobbing there now next to the edge of the island. We were urged to get on our taxi. The young lady suddenly broke down and starting sobbing and sobbing. I pulled her close and said, "It's not your fault that the man was so mad. He didn't know who else to yell at.  You were doing your job. All we can do now is pray for that dear man's soul as his angels escort him home where he will find the healing he so desperately was perhaps seeking on this side."

We got on our taxi boat and decided to pray as we passed the body as the Coast Guard was arriving and moving near him to pull him onto their boat. We prayed for him, for the young girl, for the crowd, for the man's family and friends. And then we did our very best to continue our day.

It took me hours to snap out of it. And then days, many days, before I quit seeing him.

I don't know the specific statistics on suicide but even one is too many it seems to me. These dear people cannot see any light at the end of their tunnel for whatever reason and are seeking relief.

My brother had a NDE a year before he died with cancer.  In that NDE a very dear friend of his who had committed suicide just the year before, appeared to my brother smiling, along with our Mother. It wasn't time for my brother to stay.

But, seeing his friend there, smiling, in the Light gave my brother a new hope. There are other stories of those who say they have been to Heaven and that those who do commit suicide are received by loving angels who escort them to a special place of healing. I cannot prove that, but I like the sound of it.

I looked for the incident in the newspaper the next morning and watched the local news to see if he had been identified. Nothing ever was said. I wanted to know if he was younger than he looked, and if he had a family, or if he had been ill, or....?? "The conversation rambled in my head and my heart, "Who are you? I am so sorry?"  I asked the hotel concierge about this.  They said that it is, sadly, not uncommon for people to jump from their very tall bridges there. They said that perhaps the authorities have decided its best not to report these tragedies on the news for many reasons.

Vancouver is one of my very favorite places to visit. It will continue to be so.  The unexpected arrives in front of us all over the globe sometimes.  But so does random sheer joy, sunsets that seem heavenly painted, a hug that melts our hearts... It's called Life.

AN EXPERIENCE BEFORE A MOTHER'S DEATH

I am so blessed to receive emails from a few of those who have viewed my talk in Sedona, Arizona, (filmed by David Sunfellow, NHNE-NDE, who had invited me to speak,) on You-Tube (Becki Hawkins/Nurse Shares 30 Years).

A couple of days ago a gentleman from the UK sent me the email below.  I asked for his permission to share it with you. "By all means!" he said.

"Hello Becki.  I just happened across one of your videos on YouTube and it moved me so much that I wanted to share with you my experiences before my Mum's death in January this year.

I don't want to go into details, but Mum had a terrible final six months of life before she died.  She ended up having a severe stroke which left her more or less immobile and she spent the last five weeks of her life in a hospital bed.  As a result of the stroke she was unconscious most of the time, growing ever weaker because she couldn't swallow enough food to stay alive.  She was put on what was called the Liverpool Pathway, which is palliative care only treatment for patients who have no hope of recovering.

When it was clear the end was approaching, my sister, wife and I decided we would take turns staying 24/7 with Mum in hospital because she always said she didn't want to die alone.  Four days before she died I was staying with her overnight.  She was physically very weak at that point, had been unconscious for a long time and didn't respond in any meaningful way to our voices or touch.  About 2 am her eyes suddenly opened real wide and a big smile came across her face.  She tried to lift herself up, held her right arm out and waved towards the corner of the room which was dimly lit at the time.  I could see her lips moving like she was talking to someone but there were no words coming out.  Then she said, quite clearly, 'No, not yet' and then, after a short pause, 'Bye' before closing her eyes and falling back into unconsciousness.  I want to stress that, up to this point she hadn't been able to move unless the nurses moved her and certainly hadn't spoken proper words for a long time.  Two days later I was staying overnight again and, at around the same time, the same thing happened.  This time she said, 'Hiya' and then 'Yes'.  Mum died the next day.

I decided to tell my sister about what had happened.  I hadn't done so previously because she was an emotional wreck and I didn't want to upset her even more.  She went very quiet and told me that she had had the same experience when she overnighted with Mum between my two experiences.

Mum wasn't on any sedation or painkillers when this happened and neither of us saw any sign of what she was seeing.  I don't know who came for her on each of those three occasions and why she wanted to hold on the first time.  Maybe she just wanted to spend a little longer with her family around her."

This is one of the reasons I write and speak and share stories. Sharing the stories helps others to not fear death!!

I am so grateful for his email!!

HOW THE COW EATS THE CABBAGE OR ELSE!

Back when I was driving all over creation seeing patients in 4 counties, I found myself one day seeing a lovely lady in a small NE Oklahoma rural community. Her name was Mary Catherine and she was living in a storybook looking home! It had white clapboard siding with pinkish red shutters and a porch swing on the west side of the porch.  There were flowers lining the stepping stone walkway to the antique front door.  It had an oval beveled glass front and was painted just a shade lighter than the shutters.  A late spring breeze carried the scent of peonies to my senses and made me smile all over.  Visions of my Grandma's flowerbed jumped forefront to my thoughts.  Then I heard her, "Come on in, door's unlatched."

Oh! The inside was as charming as the outside.  There was flowered wallpaper from the '40's on the walls and there was a china cabinet with pink, cranberry, and green Depression era glass inside.  There she sat in her overstuffed winged back rocking chair that also had a flowered print on it. She had just the prettiest white hair all pulled back and up, and she was wearing a flannel rose-colored gown with a ruffled apron with maroon rickrack on the top of it.  She was holding her TV remote in the pocket on one side and the panic alert button for help, if she needed it, in the other pocket.

"Well, come on in, nurse.  As you can see, I'm surrounded with all these dishes and antiques, and I'm sorting out what goes to which child and grandchild and niece or nephew.  I've got a friend who is going to come over after a bit and put them in their designated boxes. You'd think that this would depress me terribly bad, but it has been a good morning. I'm enjoying looking over each piece and remembering when I got it and what was going on when me and Henry bought it.  Bless him.  He's been gone nearly twenty-five years now.

"I know you have come to check my vital signs and see how my ticker's doing.  But, before you do anything else, I want you to sit on that embroidered footstool, not that leather one, it's wobbly, and let me inform you about how the cow eats the cabbage 'round here!

"I've been up there in that big city hospital for several days and about a month ago before that.  You see my heart is wearing out.  I've died twice and they shocked the snot out of me and brought me back both times! I've told them as plain as I could before I left that ICU room that they're not to do that anymore.  I was already having the blessing of seeing Heaven and feeling the peace and love that we don't have here on this side, when BAM! I'm back in my old clay body and feeling all that pain and bother. Lordy!

I'm too old and feeble for a heart transplant.  I don't want any surgery or another pacemaker or another valve replacement.  I want to go on.  It'll happen again and, when it does, if anyone does that Code Blue stuff on me and puts me on that dang breathing machine, I'll haunt them when I do get to die!"

I listened and wrote everything down.  My supervisor had already told me that she didn't want any CPR but that she was home to die.  But, this dear woman needed to spit that information out and make sure that everyone knew she meant business.

Her heart was very weak but her spirit was strong, and she worked hard on those belongings.  A friend and a neighbor and a niece came to help her label all of it and box it up before I left while she was dozing quietly in her chair.

I was scheduled to visit again the next day and help her with some laundry and some skin care as well as the assessment of her overall status.  I'd planned to go out and cut some of those flowers and put them in one of her antique Roseville pottery vases for her chair side table.  But as I was making out my schedule for the day we received a call from her family.  The neighbor found her that morning in her chair.  She was gone.

I couldn't help but smile.  She and Henry were together again.

How would you spend your last hours?


This is a chapter from my book, Transitions: A Nurse's Education about Life and Death
Available on my website: www.ladyhawkpublishing.com and Amazon

ALL THAT MATTERED

When I drove into his long, winding, pearl chat driveway, the multicolored crepe myrtles, hollyhock and purple flocks were waving in the early July heat and breeze.  His ducks and geese were dunking for food below the pond's surface.

I found myself wondering what kind of mood Tom would be in that day.  I took a deep breath and began mustering up courage to welcome his crankiness or his cleverness, whatever he would pitch my way.

He'd admitted to me out loud, more than once, that he was not happy about 'checking out' yet. "I need more time to come to grips with this!" he said on my previous visit.

I prayed while gathering my supplies to do wound care on the chest lesion from lung cancer that refused to stay in his chest.  When I knocked on the back screen door that entered into their utility room, he yelled out, "Why do you always knock? Come on in! And let Tom Cat out in the process."

His wife passed away the year before so he had been living alone until he came home from the hospital. His sister from Kansas came to stay with him until he regained some strength, or not.  I'm not too sure either one of them was tremendously fond of the other, but for now, it was working out to help keep him home.

Lou Ellen was in the kitchen making coffee and biscuits and gravy in case this is a day he'll eat a bite. She nodded  and offered coffee and returned to her sanctuary in the tiny kitchen.

I approached his bed with caution.  "Good Morning, Tom! How's that new pain med working for you?"

"It's actually helping and I appreciate it.  Taking the edge off that pain makes me less cranky...I haven't yelled at Lou Ellie (his name for her) in over an hour."

"Set your stuff down on that recliner," he continued, "and don't rush me this morning.  I'm enjoying watching those geese and ducks splash around in the pond.  Did you happen to see them on your way in?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did," I answered while pulling up a chair where we could hear each other better.

The 'air' is different today, and I can tell we've entered some new territory.

He eyeballs me carefully, "What are you doing here?' he asked with all sincerity.

"What do you mean?  Like my cleaning and redressing your chest wound? Or checking on your pain control? Or..."

"No! I mean what are you doing here, in life, on Earth, with your time. And your space."

"Hold that thought! I changed my mind.  I'm getting that cup of coffee from Lou Ellen.  And while I'm fetching it, keep talking to me.  What are you really asking me?" I said while retrieving the coffee from his sister who was around the corner listening; she had already poured me a cup!

"Well, I've been trying to do a little introspection about how I've taken up space here, how good a steward I've been with my time allotment, my talents or skills, my money, and such," he answered as he scratched his chin.

"I'm dying and I'm sorry I haven't done a better job.  I let bitterness set in when my wife died last year and I've wasted good light in a day.  I could have been helping out at the church she loved so much, or given some money to that schoolhouse where she volunteered, or to that dang animal shelter where she carried in dog food and the like. That's where we got ole' Tom Cat.

"And you see this all the time, and I was wondering if all you do is work.  When I was your age, I thought that was all that mattered: make a dollar, save a dollar.  Okay, that's enough talking. Let's get this bandage off."

And that was all he said about that ever again.  That was in the 1980's.  I didn't fully appreciate it then.

 I was too busy working!

FIRECRACKERS, FRITO CHILI PIE AND FUN!! OH MY!!

I grew up with my three siblings and parents in a small northeast Oklahoma town.  We thought the 4th of July was the hit of the summer.  We didn't spend a great deal of money on fireworks but we did get to buy sparklers, firecrackers, smoke bombs and the like.

Daddy would head out to the firecracker stand and eye the products. He has always been good about getting the most for your money.  We lined up close by and peered over the counter to look at the bounty before us, seeming like a candy store or looking in a department store window in December. It would make us little kids shudder with pure joy.

We had strict rules to follow: don't get near the hay meadow, don't burn yourself, don't hold onto the firecracker too long, don't chase the dogs with them and don't light the sparklers on the cook stove in the house.  Well, we followed most of them. One 4th we sneaked into the house when Mama and Daddy were busy with something at the barn.  We were hoping to light our sparklers early without any hint of us being near Mama's cook stove.  We did it! And we burned little holes right into the linoleum floor! Never did that again!!

The dogs would hightail it under the car or the pickup or try to get under the beds in the house.  But we were having the time of our summer lives.  Mama would fix us a special treat.  She'd cut open little packages of Fritos and put chili on top with shredded cheese.  We'd get to have little bottles of soda pop and usually we had homemade ice cream.  We took turns turning the handle with huge anticipation of the cold dessert taking shape.

Daddy would load up the family as dark approached and head to a smaller community by the lake and we would line ourselves up and down the rock wall awaiting the Big fireworks display! There was a carnival going on at the same time and we might ride a few rides, but our main objective was to see the magic in the sky!!

When we got home we were often too tired to light anymore fireworks or twirl a sparkler in the dark making circles and trying to write our names.  But we always believed there would be next year.

What kind of memories are you making this 4th? Enjoy!! My patients taught me that it's all, every day, a chance to make good memories with those you love.  Hug the babies, pull out the flags, and tell stories about your own childhood July 4th picnics and swimming! Tell the little ones what the 4th of July stands for in the United States.  And if they are old enough tell them what religious liberty means to you.  And for Pete's sake don't light your sparklers in the kitchen! AND wear your life jackets and be safe!!

My Brother's Keeper

I am writing this on June 23, 2014, and it is the 5th year since my brother 'transitioned' to Heaven.  I don't use the words 'died' or 'passed away' as much as I did before.  I don't believe the real us dies.  I believe we are spiritual beings who for a very short time (even if you live to be 110) are dwelling in physical bodies, clay vessels until it is time to return 'Home'.

I was the oldest of 4 children.  He was the youngest. I was born in 1951 and he was born 1956.  I wrote about some of our story and titled it, My Brother's Keeper, as the final chapter in my book, Transitions: A Nurse's Education About Life and Death.  Yes, it was the hardest chapter to write. I had kept a journal during those two previous years of his diagnosis, tests, hospital visits, chemo, radiation, his NDE a year before he transitioned, our conversations during car rides, etc.  Because I knew that one day I would have the courage to write about it. But at the time I would hurriedly post a daily entry if I had the time and close the notebook to avoid dwelling on it.  In my head it was as if there were bits and scraps of papers with all these memories floating in the air around me and falling on the floor of my consciousness with whispers of "no, not now, not yet...wait till later."

Just this morning I was remembering that morning 5 years ago.  I was staying with him at our Dad's home.  I had been spending the night with them for the previous 10 days. Daddy and I were up and down so much that night making attempts to get Jeffrey comfortable.  I was trying my best to keep him out of pain with the prescribed medications and to keep him comfortable with gently turning him from side to side when he continued to toss and turn or moan. There were moments he would seem to be settling down and breathing easier and then he would use all his strength and pull himself up.  At one point the night before he had done this and turned to me and smiled and said, "Are you a nurse? Are you staying with us?"

"Yes", I said, "I am spending the night with you. I won't leave." And with that he went back to sleep.

But this last night into the wee hours of the morning he struggled. I would whisper to him as I gently stroked his wrinkled brow, "Brother, it's OK to go. Mom will meet you. Look for the light. You are so loved, do not fear."

And then as morning arrived he simply quit the fight.

Those of you who have been there know what I mean when I say that I was filled with relief and heartbreak all in the same moment.  Relief that he wasn't suffering anymore and relief that someone else, his angels and others, on the other side were now my brother's keeper.  And yet, the letting go, the handing over his care, his protection, guiding his fight to live for especially those past 2 years was choking me in waves of tears and trying to be brave as I allowed raw grief to have her say.

I believe without a doubt we will spend much more time together some day.  I sense his presence often, not as much as in the beginning but he still checks in on me.  He still has a sense of humor.  He encourages me. He is so very happy.  And I believe also that he will be one of those in my 'welcome home' group when I make my transition!

Thank you Brother for the honor of being one of your big sisters! Today I will choose to remember the good times, the belly aching laughter, your love of animals, your curiosity about history and the universe, your pride in your daughter and the way you would light up when you got to see your grandchildren, your tenderness and your toughness, your love for your AA buddies and so much more!

You may have been the youngest of us 4 but in many ways you were the wisest!

Until we meet again!

OUR INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS

It was in the spring of the early 1990's and I was visiting a delightful spit-fire of a woman battling cancer, stage 4. I'd come to understand that each one of us decides, if possible, whether we want to keep fighting even after the doctor says it's time to switch to Hospice, focus on comfort and being with the family. I respect every one's decision even if it wouldn't be mine.  Life and death and grief are just as individual as a personality.  Suffering is very personal.

This dear soul's attitude was, "I'm not done until I'm done with my fighting."  And that was even after the doctor explained to her in the beginning of treatments that her prognosis with this aggressive cancer was poor.  She never took those words to heart. "Who does he think he is? God? Hells Bells, we'll go down fighting."

She looked like an actor that might have been on True Grit who would have competed with John Wayne's character! She had purpose in every step she took and she called all the shots!

"I am not skipping the Wednesday evening's prayer meeting just because that doctor told me that my white count isn't where it's supposed to be.  Fiddle sticks, I can't miss! There's a new minister coming to our church and I need to lay my eyes on him, put my hands on him and listen to what he has to say.  I gauge them by how firm their handshake is and I can tell by watching the way they talk if they are stretching the truth. You can see so much in the way a fella holds himself in a crowd and behind the pulpit."

I didn't argue with her.  She knew more about her blood counts and the risks involved than most.  How on earth would I have tried to stop her?!! She knew what lay ahead.

Within a few days I was visiting her at her home.  A black and white photo of her was hanging on the flowered wallpapered living room wall.  Wow! She was a beauty queen in her day!  But, especially now, to me, she was even more radiant.

"I'm at peace," she whispered to me while fighting waves of nausea. Sweet peace has come.  It's OK now."

"Shh", I said while trying to arrange sheets and blankets and pillows...anything I could think of to be nearer to her and hang on to those fleeting moments.  I really wanted her to sit up again and tell me everything.  Tell me her life story, her loves, her joys, her disappointments.

I longed for an over sized rocker so I could hold her and rock her back and forth and say, "..and then what happened?"

Her life was such a witness to so many and for so many reasons.  But it was her dying that bore witness to me.  She feared nothing. I whispered to her, "Hear the words of Paul, "...that the eyes of your heart and spirit may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope of which you have been called to by Jesus Christ, the riches of His glorious inheritance..".  She liked Paul.

"In other words dear friend, I pray you now receive glimpses of Glory as angels escort you Home.  Well done, well done."

WHICH RELIGION?

They gathered in the board room to discuss the evening's agenda. Some of the men were standing at the windows looking down 20 plus floors at the streets and the evening's traffic jams.  Some were sitting in their chairs drumming their pencils, making small talk about the weather and world wide predictions of global warming.

They were religious leaders from different backgrounds. The chairman of the board walked to the head of the table and stood behind his chair. His white hair was neatly combed and his stylish colorful tie had been pulled off and was laying across his chair.

"OK, I'll start with you Bill. What is your complaint with this young man that has created this disgruntlement within our committee?" He began as he continued to stand and pace slowly around the table.

Bill began without hesitation, "Well to start with he hasn't joined any of our congregations."

Many were nodding in agreement as the men took turns speaking out.

"And we aren't sure he even confesses he knows God the way we do." Fred joined in.

Each one stated their concerns while Samuel strolled around the room. He returned to his chair and spoke. "This is what I'd like for each of you to do, separately. I want you to follow him without him noticing you are anywhere nearby.  Observe his behavior, his connections, his purchases, where he likes to go everyday and then we will return here to discuss this further in two weeks."

Everyone agreed this was a great idea. Off they went to follow Alex.

As they had agreed they returned to the boardroom in two weeks. The chairman was sitting down in his chair this time. He began the meeting with a prayer. Then he began the questioning.

"I'd like to have each one of you state where you followed him to and what you observed. That is all. I don't want any commentary. Let's just start with the facts."

Bill: "I followed him to a nursing home. He was visiting an elderly woman who had just been admitted there, I found out, a few days before. I saw him praying with her."

Sam: "I followed him to a non-denominational ministry center and watched him help receive those who were filing inside to get some food and some clothes. He was cheerful and non-judgmental to each one and he was making the other volunteers laugh with some sharing of his life, etc."

Fred: "I followed him to a Hospice House. He went inside to visit a young man who was dying with AIDS.  He held him close, spoke without judgment, prayed with him and stayed there until that young man passed away a couple of hours later."

Jim:  "I followed him to a school where he had been invited to read to some lst graders. The book he was reading was about not bullying but accepting everyone no matter what their clothes looked like or how their bodies might be different, some perhaps with ambulatory difficulties, speech challenges, etc."

John:  "I followed him to recycle center where he was deep in trash and plastic bottles and cans and glass. He was whistling and humming some tune.  He never seemed to mind sorting through all that mess."

George:  "I followed him to a hillside overlooking the city. He seemed to be meditating. His eyes were closed and he was completely still in the same position for over 20 minutes. And after that he got up and went to an animal shelter where he volunteered walking the dogs and brushing some cats and playing with some kittens. He cleaned some of the empty pens and got fresh water for all of them."

The chairman spoke up again. "Did any of you see him in your church?"

All the men stated that he had donated some money to their churches. And one of the men said he was aware of him donating to the Chamber of Commerce, Red Cross, their local library, a group that helps with scholarships, and a place that harbors women needing a safe house to stay in for awhile. Each one also admitted that he had visited their church at least once in the past year.

The chairman began, "So, can anyone tell me what religion you think he might profess?"

The eldest of the group slowly rose to his feet. "I haven't been watching this young man just the past few days. I've been observing him ever since he arrived here after hearing him in a conversation at the coffee shop. And after listening to all of you I think I've clearly decided that the religion he follows is LOVE."

Meeting was adjourned.

THE REWARD OF WALKING

My exercise of choice is walking. I walk an hour a day if it's not raining or snowing or too windy or too hot. So I don't guess you could say I do it for my health or I'd be out there everyday! But when I do walk, I thoroughly enjoy it!

We live in a relatively small town, about 12,000, give or take. I've been here nearly all my life so I'm not a stranger to many. People who know me aren't surprised to see me stop and hug or pat a tree. I also like to visit with some residents sitting out in their yard or on their porch. I've made friends with some dogs along my path as well.

Last week I had an especially good walk. Not too windy or warm or raining gave me a spring in my step. I stopped by to visit a dear family who were gently, lovingly, sitting at vigil with a loved one who was nearing transition. I had the honor to love on them with a few hugs, a few words and some encouragement.

Not too far down the road from them I stopped by to visit a darling couple who were sitting in their driveway. The husband was sitting in his lawn chair holding one of the cutest little dogs I've ever seen. Their previous dog had just departed and so he said he went to the animal shelter and took a tour and there he was, the prettiest pup on the place. "Well, what are you doing here?" That's what he said when he saw him. Needless to say he adopted him. He is adorable! I held him as I chatted with the couple about how they were training him to not chase their chickens and not chase the neighborhood cats because they do not want him to get under a car! I'm telling you right now that if I thought I could have run fast enough, I would have snatched that darling dog up and took off. He really is that cute!! But he's in good hands and I could see how very happy they were with him.

On down and around the corner I ran into a gentleman I've known since the 1980's.  I was thrilled to see him. He's been taking some powerful chemotherapy and it was good to see him out and about.
He shared with me about his latest doctor visits and how he was progressing and then also shared how he realized that there is always someone in worse shape than we are.

I told him that I remembered when I was working in outpatient oncology there would be patients that would share those same words with me. One of my patients was rail thin, weak as a kitten, having a hard time getting her wig to stay on her head. But she was the one who went to each patient in the waiting room and would see if they needed anything, ask them how they were tolerating their treatments, and then would often share a story, a joke, and nearly always a prayer. She taught me so much about suffering.

Only about a block away from there I stopped to visit with a dog I befriended a couple of years ago. He is always happy to see me. I lean over his fence gate and rub his ears and tell him how pretty he is and he does that dog grin. His owner found him in a McDonald's parking lot, abandoned. He could tell right away that he was a very good dog to take home! Yea!! I've been given permission to bring him a toy every now and then and a little dog treat. He has the uncanny way of making me feel like the most wonderful human on Earth. But I know he acts that way about everybody!

I decided I did need to stop and hug my favorite tree and I didn't care who might question my senses! These walks are like exercise and prayer and meditation and group therapy all rolled up into one activity.

Yes, there are many sad and crazy things we hear on the nightly news. But there are also so many beautiful things happening at the same time. Let me encourage you to skip the news every now and then and take a walk in a park, or alongside a lake or pond or especially on a beach if you are blessed enough to live close to one! Take some deep breaths, marvel at the gift of a flower in bloom with a bee or dragonfly dancing in its pollen, hear the sound of a child's laughter, observe the dog's abandon of rules in running and jumping to catch a Frisbee. It's not all bad folks, not always.

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

It was 1992 and I was visiting patients and their families all over the county.  I particularly enjoyed visiting these two cuties!

They were a team by every definition of the word. All day, every day, meal time, laundry days, housework days, yard work...side by side! Inseparable, that is until now.

Six months ago the doctors only allowed him to return home because he insisted, "But you won't last two weeks," they warned.

"Well that's two weeks at home instead of here.  I want to look outside my window, not yours.  I want to eat or choose not to eat my wife's cooking, not yours.  We don't have 'no visitors' signs at our home.  And the air smells better at our home.  And my pets can sleep on my bed with me! No offense to you docs and I thank you that you've been kind enough to tell me the truth. There's more opportunity for alone time for me and Marie at our house," Henry said.

Who else but his beloved Marie would refine his constant bedside care into an art form?  Together they learned and performed the necessary tasks at hand.  They knew more, much more than I did in this specialty and rarely did they need me.  But let me assure you that I was tickled pink when they asked me to come see them.

Oh my! They made me feel like a royal guest!  They demonstrated such gratitude for any instruction or suggestion or advice.

And all was well, for a while.

More than once a loved one would remind him that he had promised long ago to outlive every one of them.  He was living it up way past the two weeks the doctors had predicted.  Neighbors and family were making a steady stream through that back screen door carrying in food, flowers, stories, laughter and total respect when it came time to let them both rest.  There were more prayers prayed in that tiny house than I'd ever heard before.  He was so tolerant of so many needing to tell him what he meant to them.

"Don't you think this is better than folk waiting till I'm gone to come over here, Becki?  It's kind of like a pre-funeral.  And I get to be here for it!

Funny thing is, I was still a bit surprised when that last call came.  How long did I think he could continue to stay with us?

"Will you come over now Becki?"

Of course I would! But I could not find my professional face. My tears were blinding me as I drove in the twilight hours to be with them.  Wasn't I thankful that his silent suffering would end?  Wasn't I thankful he would be seeing Jesus soon?"

I did not know how I would speak intelligent or professional words for choking back grief's grasp on my throat!  Grief for whom? For him? Well, yes and no.

How could I grieve with the sight of peace on his face and knowing they'd had God's gift of six more precious months, knowing his silent suffering was now forever done?

No, it was more for her! The faithful one I'd witnessed so valiantly, so eagerly, so lovingly, so tirelessly, give it all she had and then some more day after day to be the best nurse he'd ever had, the best wife, the best friend.

You see, he not only made me feel special, he made everyone feel that way.

Over and over these patients reminded me. What do we want to be remembered for? A major contribution to your town? Inventing a cure for a disease? Solving world hunger? Having the highest SAT score on record?
No?

Better yet, that we may be remembered as my friend was.  Someone who loved God and loved his neighbors as himself.

Someone who made everyone feel special.