I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before – repeatedly – that I was blessed to have the best introduction to serious poetry as a ‘tween. Between that and the compassionate care my mother demonstrated – and took me along as she did so – for our family, friends and neighbors, the concept of hospice is something I wholly appreciate.
Please bear with me. Posts are likely to be sporadic again, as I focus on needs right here in front of me. Cancer is raging in too many lives of those I hold dear. Their stories aren’t mine to tell, but on Thursday, I learned of two League members I consider treasures… one had finally lost her fight, and another is giving us the gift of her final days so we can assure she knows what a positive impact she has had on the League, on our community. On Friday, two great patriarchs from families that have been a part of my life for ages both slipped away after very long fights.
There are others. I honestly don’t have it in me to list all of the people I know who are either fighting cancer or caring for someone who is. And then, there was a very dear doggy death – not from cancer, thankfully – I haven’t mentioned here either… (His mother isn’t a blogger, but he was a very special companion.)
Because of Mr. Murray’s english classes, I have a death poem for any mood, but today, I give you my favorite poet’s more gentle thoughts. I wish such a gentle glide into that good night for everyone in hospice care.
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.