Then my house was broken into, and my laptop was stolen. So everything I had saved on it was gone. 

 

Since my recent trauma from losing my Buddy, the thought re-occurred, so I decided to give it a try again. 

 

The Dying Process

 

“It is appointed unto man once to die, and after this the judgment.” 

This scripture is very profound, especially in light of the society in which we live. 

Today more so than any other time in the span of my sixty-eight years are we constantly bombarded with the ideological scenarios which range from atheism to cult believers to ‘more than one way to God’, and the list continues to be exhaustive beyond comprehension. 

Some, of course, teach no life after death, others believe in reincarnation, some say the soul of man never dies, but lives on forever. The latter is my belief. 

According to scripture, eternity awaits every human being who has ever been born upon this earth. God deemed it so, and those who refute it will have a rude awakening when they take their last breath.

Someone said, “Death means separation. Physical death is the separation of the body from the spirit. The history of the creation of the first human being shows that he was made with a body and a spirit. When the judgment of death was pronounced upon Adam, his body was said to return to dust. This process of dying, which begins at the moment we are born, is an enemy of humanity. It is an inescapable fact, something we all must face.”

Regardless of what we believe about life and death, the truth remains-death begins the moment we are born.

Sometimes death comes suddenly, unintentional and intentional. 

But what I’m confronting in this piece is the slow-moving process. The one where age or sickness or both affect the individual in such a way as to eliminate quality of life. Sadly, our society today wants to make it a simpler or easier process, by either administering a drug to put one to sleep be it human or animal, not giving the actual process its right of progress. It just eliminates the family having to watch its effects. I do not believe in this unless the situation is one that warrants it due to immense pain or suffering. It’s an individual call. 

There are countless examples in scripture about the dying process. Never do we read in any case where the individual did anything to expedite his plight. 

I can only speak of the first hand experiences I have encountered in my life.

As I was faced with the reverse role of parent-child relationship with Mama and Daddy, it became evident of the difficulties which would show me the true meaning of unconditional love, the kind God Himself displays to us daily. 

To watch the very ones who loved on me, nurtured me, instilled moral, ethical and religious values in my life as I grew up under their care, slowly digress in their physical and mental faculties was overwhelming.  

Daddy more so than Mama, because he was always a very self-sufficient provider. He had his weaknesses, but when those weren’t taunting him he was a very responsible, dependable role model. 

When he began to falter as age continued to take away his strengths, I found myself crying every day. 

Life became unfair in so many ways, yet he continued to outlive all his peers. Yet sadly, his mind didn’t outlive his body. The last year of his life was one of tremendous strain, as he slipped in to sundowners dementia, losing his cognitive abilities, confined to a wheelchair, not being able to even feed himself. But he was working everyday in his mind, and would tell me he had been loading his truck, or selling a load, or taking Josh to hunt rabbits, teaching him how to skin them. He never had an idle moment because his life had been that way. He loved to work. He was so disgruntled because he could no longer perform his manly duties. But he had an encounter with God which gave him grace to end his final days. An answer to prayer, but made the separation no more easy for me.

Mama, on the other hand, grew old gracefully. Her mind outlived her body, as she became confined to the bed, yet still possessing her demonstrations of love, humor and grace. She accepted her plight and was one of the most thankful human beings I’ve ever known. She was thankful for a drink of water, she was thankful that someone gave her a bath, she was thankful that I brought them supper every night. She was thankful for everything. I would tell her she manifested the fruit of the Spirit every day, with such humility and love that it would make me weep and repent to God that I didn’t possess them as gracefully as she did. We were buddies, as she would say. And as I watched the dying process take its toll on her in her final hours, I prayed and asked God to let her mantle fall on my shoulders. And He did. I see her and Daddy in my life daily; either in a deed, or a word. Their influence is living still and I am thankful. The dying process is one of the hardest things in this life to have to contend with, but it teaches valuable life lessons.

The same ingredients can consume us when we have to walk this dying process with a loved one, as the ingredients of the grieving process once death claims them. 

The first step is denial. I denied that Daddy was changing. He was just not happy was my theory. But after he died, I realized I had been living in denial.

The second step is anger. Truthfully, I was angry that God had allowed him and Mama to suffer the things they did as they grew older. But the alternative would’ve made me even more angry. 

The third step is bargaining. I did my share of that as well the last few years of their lives. I tried to convince God that I could care for them alone. And I did, until I couldn’t. Having them both became more than I could bear, physically and emotionally. Had I just had one of them, I could’ve handled one. But both required so much and it was exhaustive and critical on me. I cried daily. It seemed more than I could bear. Yet my bargaining continued. 

The fourth step is depression. I seldom cared for myself. My focus was continually on their care. Cooking for them, cleaning, helping them up and down, they were my children. The doctor told me I was in ‘situational’ depression. He wanted me to take something, which I tried, but actually made me worse. So I told him I was a Christian, and would just pray more. And I did. I agonized many nights before God, as I trusted He would give me the strength to live up to my responsibilities. I could’ve done what so many do in the dying process. I could’ve run. I could’ve left, and said I have my own life to live and I can’t take on this responsibility. As I was told more than once by more than one person, “You just feel obligated to them”. Obligated? Indeed, I was obligated. Not only was I born, to someone else, but I was adopted by Mama and Daddy. At eighteen months old, I became their child. Mama told me more times than I could count that she couldn’t love me any more than she did had she given birth to me. And she proved that through the 57 years that she lived as my Mama. Her love was never ending, until she left this world. The depression was well founded, but after it all, there was no regret. 

The fifth stage is acceptance. When does it come? There is no time limit. It’s been ten years since Mama’s departure, and there are days it seems I cannot stand the loss. But the acceptance is the reality that it is no longer something that I can change, just accept their absence for what it is. The heart can only stand so much stress, and I think God knows when an individual needs to reach the final step.

The dying process-if we live we will be faced with it. Either through a family member, or a friend, or even as an individual. How we respond to it will determine where we are in our priorities of life, or our perspective of the life or lives involved. 

God provided avenues for me to be able to cope with my dilemmas, not all were what I would’ve ever considered as essential but they were necessary at the time. He was faithful to be an ever present help in time of troubles, and as I never strayed too far from the cross, His mercies and forgiveness were new every morning. 

So, may I end on a positive note. The dying process is not something to shun, but rather a process which will give one a stronger resolve. I watched my grandma Mullis die, I watched my dear Aunt Ruth, Daddy’s sister, die, I watched Mama die, and I watched Buddy die. 

The dying process-it’s very much a part of life. Don’t fear it...embrace it with all its heaviness. It comes to pass-it doesn’t come to stay. Then we will inherit eternal life, if Jesus is our Saviour. Heaven is real...there’s a great cloud of witnesses waiting for us there!

 

D. S. Mullis

.2021