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These reflections on my terminal cancer have only one purpose in mind: to bring together those who would heal. and those who would be healed. And to preserve protect and prolong life, hold it sacred against all impediments and anyone who would. [PDF] Don't Tell Me I'm Going To Die: Reflections On My Terminal Cancer by Feroze Moos. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can.
Share on email. When the soul is about to return to God, it is a moment of great awe. If you have the opportunity to be there when your elderly loved one takes that final breath, be there. In This Series:. Becoming Your Loved One's Caregiver 2. Caregivers Need to Care for Themselves as Well 3. When It's Time to Let Go. There comes a point when, despite numerous prayers for healing and the efforts of doctors and modern medicine, it becomes clear that a loved one will not recover.
The idea that he or she will not be around much longer is hard to swallow. How can this person, who has been part of your life for so long, really go away? You might spend all your energy taking care of your elder and postpone talking about death, avoiding words like terminal or dying. Your elder might also avoid the subject. This may be your only chance to talk about your fears, make any apologies, express your love and appreciation, and recall special shared memories. It also may be your last opportunity to help your elder prepare to meet the Lord.
The words of Scripture often take on special meaning to one who is dying. Even if your elder is too sick or mentally impaired to respond, you can still talk, touch, and show affection, reassuring your loved one of your ongoing love and care. Take the time now to say good-bye. Sometimes a dying person lingers because she is worried about her spouse or children and how they will cope without her. This is the time to express sentiments of love and thankfulness to your elder and to give her permission to let go.
Just as Jesus made provision for His mother by entrusting her care to the disciple John, let your loved one know that the surviving family members will be taken care of. Tears are a natural part of saying good-bye and can help you to let go, too. Hope in the Word When the soul is about to return to God, it is a moment of great awe.
But let your words be few and meaningful. Speak to your loved one slowly and distinctly, not in a whisper or in a loud voice but clearly and gently. Psalm 23 is especially comforting to Christians.
I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Unless something else kills me, my tumors will. It is not unreasonable that I will see my 35th birthday. It is significantly less likely I will see This is not his plan. This gets God off the hook for something I need Him to be a part of.
It makes God absent, except in the most incidental way, from the most significant experience of my life. I want to argue with God, cry out to Him, and maybe eventually, accept what He is doing. We would not the infused virtue of faith if evil in the face of a good God could simply be explained away. I am a Thomist, through and through. But evil does not have a rational answer.
It has an encounter. This is a grace. I think often of Joseph being sold into slavery.
I will miss him when he passes. I quiz my daughter on spelling words, my son on his letters. People with MND can ask doctors to remove the artificial ventilation that is keeping them alive. I have felt like I am losing her everytime she has had a decline in her health or independence over the past several years. My efforts are unnoticed or dismissed, not appreciated, mocked, and even criticized; she never asks how I am or how my family is; she never initiates any contact with me no phone calls or included in her plans ; our conversations are brief and superficial; I regularly offer assistance to her and even that is not graciously accepted. Friends who fly across country with hundreds of dollars of wine.
How will God weave good out of this? But I have faith in a good God. I have hope in His good plan. That is not to say that I am happy about it. My oldest is not yet seven. I want to watch my kids grow up into sophisticated adults who love Thomas Aquinas. I want to grow old with my husband, to have deep theological discussions arguments with him.
I want to use my education to serve the church. I want to see Trump beat and out of the White House. My grief is bottomless. And yet, the way I feel a lot of the time is grateful. I have healthcare.
Can you imagine what I would do without it? I have access to great medical care. I have the education to advocate for myself. And I am not alone.
I have a husband who is working ten times harder than he should taking care of me and the family and the house. I have a family that is helping me out financially. I have the best of friends. Friends who fly across country with hundreds of dollars of wine. Friends who bring fresh-baked bread and tomatoes and lemons over, but who stay to talk, to admire my kids.
Friends who send awesome books to my kids, and chocolate from Spain, and turkey feathers. Friends who make sure Nicholas has breast milk, even if it means driving out of state to a total stranger. If this experience has given me anything, it is a deep appreciation for friendship as part of the good life. I have always known we were communal creatures. My youngest son Nicholas has this etched into his very body. My friends have fed him with their bodies. My friends have taken my kids when I have doctors appointments or when I have to get my will notarized.
My friends have cleaned my house, cooked me meals, rented AirBandBs for me. It is no accident that eternal life is described by the greatest theologian of all time a friendship with God. In my friends, I see God.
My friends bring God to me with their overwhelming acts of love. The reason my faith is what it is is because of my friends.