When my father passed decades ago, it was a quick. He seemed relatively healthy and active, then just died on his way to work. Within two weeks his body was buried, and within two months all of his paperwork was closed out. His name was carved onto a headstone and deleted from all of the titles. He just wasn’t coming home again. Now I am witnessing a different kind of end of life experience with my father-in-law. 

He was diagnosed this last spring. There was a mass identified during a colonoscopy and that was successfully removed. They did a scan and found that cancer had spread to at least two other places in the body. The doctor said he had anywhere from weeks to months to live. In his situation, chemo was only going to be palliative, and that quickly came to the point of causing more pain than ease. 

Our family traveled to Pennsylvania in August. We went out there to say hello and goodbye. Other than being incredibly tired by the late afternoon, he was functioning normally. Our youngest met him for the first time and they went fishing together. The family held a large barbecue and people attended from all over. It was a very lovely trip, but bittersweet.

During my father-in-law’s appointment at the hospital last week, a scan showed that the cancer had spread significantly. There was nothing they could do for him, but send him home with hospice care. With hospice he gets a nurse, a social worker, a weekly aide and a chaplain. 

The hospital also sent him home with a shot of steroids, so he felt better overall. He wondered out loud to the chaplain that he might be getting better. My poor mother-in-law is having a hard time talking to him about him dying because he doesn’t want to die. Nobody who enjoys their life wants to die, so it’s very hard for people to wrap their heads around it when it happens to them.

The closest metaphor I can think of is taking a loved one to the airport and waiting with them for their flight. The airplane has not showed up yet, so maybe, they wonder, if they can get back into the car and drive home. “No, you are going on a flight and I am going home. We will not see each other on earth again.” This is the situation we all find ourselves at some point. 

Even as one life is ending, there is a new life that has just begun. My husband’s parents got to meet their first great-grandchild this week and that is a special moment too.