When Your Loved One Is Dying

There really is no one prescribed formula for how to cope with the news that your loved one is going to die. We are all different and the way we cope with such devastating news is a very personal thing. No one can tell you what to expect, how you will react, or how best to handle the situation. You literally learn as the days unfold – as I did.

I am a very spiritual person and had months to prepare for the day when we might be told that my lovely partner might succumb to the cancer that he had battled with for so long. In my logical mind, I thought I would be strong, I would have my beliefs to lean on and that I would be able to reassure him as well.

I guess in hindsight that was a pretty arrogant and short-sighted attitude. The day that we were told that the cancer had returned and was spreading aggressively was one of the worst days of my life. I felt absolutely floored, helpless, useless and completely brain numb. I didn’t know what to say, how to vocalise what I was feeling. In fact, I was terrified to open my mouth in case I started howling like a wounded animal.

We both just sat dumbstruck for about 10 minutes in the consulting room, staring blankly at the oncologist as she tried to explain to us what was happening and what our next best step was. She wanted to admit my partner immediately for a week of more aggressive chemo, but said it would only be in an effort to reduce the tumours to help with pain control. We tried to take in what she was saying, but it was impossible to think clearly about anything.

I just kept thinking “Oh god no, he’s going to die!”

Then the emotions and tears overtook us like a river in flood, overwhelming and painful in their intensity. We were holding onto each other and sobbing in our mutual grief, not comprehending fully what we had been told, only knowing that the doctor had given up hope.

I don’t remember the drive home, or what happened for the next few hours. All I do remember is the tears that seemed to come in exhausting waves that neither of us could control. Hope had been our life raft and now we were drowning.

Once we had both calmed down, we began to think about the practical stuff that had to be sorted out, as the oncologist could not give us any idea of how much time we had left. It was easier to focus on practicalities than the emotions that lurked, threatening to drag us into a dark pit of despair.

I think my partner was in a more resigned space than me at that moment and he insisted we contact his lawyer to arrange the updating of his Last Will, as well as creating a Living Will. I was still in denial and trying to avoid having to confront such details as a Will and Funeral. It just seemed to make things so final, so cut and dried. So “over”.

I wasn’t able to accept what I felt was defeat at that moment. I am an optimist and I struggled to surrender to the idea that we had done everything humanly possible to control the cancer. Sadly, we had caught it far too late and the damage was widespread and severe.

I continued with the same daily routine in the weeks following the diagnosis, knowing in my head that time was running out, while my heart prayed for a miracle.

It took me about 6 weeks to fully surrender and accept that my loved one was not going to survive. I remember the moment very clearly. The Hospice Sister had been round to visit and my loved one had asked her how long she thought he still had. She very bravely replied “I think you have a little while yet”…..

Her words settled in my mind and gradually moved down into my broken heart and I knew that for both our sakes I had to find the courage to accept that we were facing his impending death. I had to help him make an easy transition and create a sacred space for us both to honour his passing with grace and gratitude. So that’s what I set out to do.

I found out as much as possible about the actual process one goes through when death is near, so that I would recognise the signs. Then I began reading out loud passages from positive, uplifting books about what he might expect on the “other side”.

As the days went by, I gave him as much love and tender care as I could and assured him that when the time came, he was not to worry about me, or anyone, left behind on this earthly plane. I urged him to look for the light and to follow it. We talked about his loved one’s who would be there to help him and take him on this final journey. I know they began to gather close, as I often saw him having a silent conversation with “someone” as he lay dozing on the bed.

I found a certain peace in the fact that he would soon be leaving, as I knew that his suffering would be behind him and he could fly free once more. I didn’t think about the future without him, or what my own life would be like. There would be time for that later.

For now, he was the main focus of all my love and attention.

When the final day arrived, it was emotionally devastating. No matter how prepared you think you are, when someone you love crosses over and you are left behind in the silence, it takes time to heal and come to terms with the loss. Knowing he was beyond pain was the one thing that helped me and I clung to that belief like a drowning person.

Then you begin the slow, gradual journey back to your new life. You take one painful step at a time, one lonely day at a time. Till one day you realise that you are smiling at a memory, you are laughing as you recall a shared joke. You are able to think about your loved one with a warm feeling in your heart, grateful for those memories and the times you spent together.

When your loved one is dying, do whatever you can to make that time together special for both of you. I feel so humbled and honoured that I was present at the time of my loved one’s transition back to the light.

It was a gift and a blessing that I carry in my heart.

Linney

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