Holding the hand of someone who is dying is part of every pastor's experience. This week once again I have been humbled by the gift of holding hands.
It is at the end of holding hands for the visit, right before leaving, that the dying seems to grasp the hand holding it in a different way; a way that expresses feeling, encapsulates faith, passes hope, and conveys a peace that surpasses understanding. It is a letting go movement that says, "All is well with my soul. Be not afraid. I have glimpsed the other side and I am better than fine. Be not sad for me."
Mark Nepo wrote: "Sometimes we would do better to admit the heart works best in mime." This has become my bedside mantra, when with those who are dying and their families. Words seem futile and they are unable to express the depth of relationship.
Yesterday I understood the variety, the subtle changes, and the movement of the touch between my hand and that of the one dying. A book of a million words was passed in minutes through touch.
What passed in the holding of hands was peace, thank-yous, blessings, a remembering of intimate moments along the journey, farwells, and a sharing of love that will never end.
Rest in peace dear one, until we once again hold hands.
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