I don’t have a matching photo to drop in this post, since I spent most of my day in the hospice unit. If you had been with me, you might be carrying the same image of ready I am – a family, sitting vigil, ready for the last beautiful awful moment. That last breath, the last exhalation.
They have been watching and waiting, sleeping on couches, eating take out, having all of the last hard conversations. Alert to the signs, they are ready.
I was struck again today that the work of dying is not unlike the work of giving birth. And there is nothing those who love the dying or the mother can do but wait and watch. And hope they are ready for what comes. Truth is, parents are never truly ready (especially for their first), any more than the bereaved are ever prepared for the journey as they embark.
Am I ready for Christmas? No- though I found a couple of houses in my neighborhood who seem to be. The larger question- am I making ready for Christ’s coming?