In Passing

“The end has come.”  These are the words I texted to my brother Jim’s children early this past Monday morning after receiving a call from the Pocopson Home near Longwood Gardens, where he had been a resident for the last seven months, notifying me he had passed on and was now at peace.

His death at age 94 was not a surprise to any of his family as he had been dealing for months with numerous health issues that precluded any form of an active life.  And, more recently, he had stopped eating. Some in the family said they saw glimmers of hope as he implied in conversations he wanted to recover. But he continued to weaken, and then he stopped talking, spending most of the time sleeping.  His daughter Susan and I finally decided to have him transition into end-of-life care at the facility.

Serendipitously, many of his six children and their spouses along with a number of other family members visited him on Sunday, the day before his death.  A few sang some of his favorite hymns. Some read to him. I played the fight song of the University of Michigan, his alma mater and mine, and I saw a slight muscle twitch that led me to believe he had heard and recognized it.

Death is a certainty, whether at the end of a long life or prematurely due to disease or accident. For those who experience the death of a loved one, the adjustment to the new reality can be overwhelming.  Now there is a void, one that had been filled by a special person in your life.

In my case, I have so many different feelings: grief from the loss of my big brother, thankfulness he no longer suffers, sincere appreciation for all of the support from so many, curiosity at how Jim is doing in his new reality, and gratitude for knowing with certainty that God is with him, with his family and friends, and with me, at this time and always.

Thanks be to God for watching over all of us.

Bob Linderman