Inspiration came to me today. Please take a moment to read what a friend sent to me as a gift for writing these poems each day, for it was in her words, from her heart, that I found the emotions in mine.
For Sherrie
you see scars on your heartI see something moredeeper and to be honoredcherished and nurtured
I see lessons of what love ishow love can and should beabove and through it allI see the one constant thing
yes, it has to be very difficultto see suffering every dayand this makes you indeedvery special and gifted
not many hearts could facesuch tribulation day after dayyou are a far stronger spiritthan most others I know
you are a hero to be liftedin the hearts and the prayerscherished in the thoughtsof each and every one of us
you make last moments dignifiedfor those that often feel all hopeof any dignity stolen when they heardthose dreadful words "terminal"
I want to thank you personallyfor all that you every day do to helpremind so many of the wonder and glorythat is human compassion and love
love for our fellow beings unknownunconditionally giving of yourselfto make another feel right to the endtheir life still held some worth
let us all join to say a thank youfor all those that have never hadthe chance to say it themselvesthank you so very much!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Two Hundred Seventy Seventh, October 4, 2011
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Her words, as promised:
ReplyDeleteI am so incredible sad. Truly sad. Not sure what to do anymore. Its all just a mess. I can’t even wrap my brain around it. I wish I could go back. Not sure how far back just back, anywhere but where I am right now.
I have watched so many people die. I have cried so many times. My heart is so damaged, I cannot put into words the amount of pain I feel. So much pain. So much suffering.
I try to focus on the good things. Like families reunited, forgiving each other, embracing each other. Resolving what they had thought irresolvable. Mostly loving each other again. Meeting nieces, nephews and in-laws. Often for the first time. The joy that gives to the patients just shines off their faces. Its beautiful.
Then there are those whom never have this. This closure and new beginning. Be it the wounds just to deep or the stubbornness to make the first move, to take that giant leap and attempt to forgive.
For whatever reason, I try not to be critical or to judge. That is not for me to do. There are so many different heartbreaks.
ReplyDeleteThe loss of a partner of over 50 years. The shock of a terminal diagnosis with only weeks to accept, cope and grieve. The passing of half of yourself. The look in their eyes is always the same. To me it says, “What happens now?”, “What do I do now?” and “who will take care of me ?”.
We offer words of comfort and make our feeble attempts at guidance, encouragement and emotional support, but the look in their eyes remains the same “LOST”.
These, these are the ones that hurt the most, because I have had that look and I have felt that feeling. Not due to the loss of a loved one but due to the loss of myself. Nursing has been wonderful and horrible. Its been funny and gut wrenching. Its been thrilling and terrifying. It has damaged me and it has healed me.
The loss of one’s self is beyond comprehension, unless you’ve been there.
I do not socialize. I have no friends. I have no hobbies. I have no plans. I have no life. I have no future. No glorious retirement awaits me. I have no hopes, no dreams and no goals.
My heart and soul are damaged beyond repair. I accept this, I live with this everyday.
Just waiting for the next cut into my heart, to form yet another scar. How many more wounds. How much more pain must I endure. There is no room on my heart for more cuts. Its already full of scars.
So there, there is the ‘LOOK’. ‘What happens now?’ ‘What am I to do?’ Shock, bewilderment and fear that is what is in our eyes. The eyes I share with the survivors. The ones left behind to either pick up the pieces and go on. Or surrender and simply wait for their time.
If people only knew just how much nurses and caregivers suffer and sacrifice. The daily damage done to our souls. I don’t know it they could even comprehend it all.
The 40 year old mother, leaving 2 small children behind. Not old enough to understand but old enough to feel the pain. The Patriarch of the family. Will the family still hold on or will it crumble with his loss?
I choose my words very carefully. Constantly reminding myself-- this is what families may remember most. The Words That I Say. Everyday before I begin my shift I say a prayer, to whom I am not sure. I can only hope that it is heard and answered. My prayer;
“Please give me the strength, courage and wisdom to get through this night. To know What to say, How to say it and When to say it. Please give me the patience and tolerance to deal with the differences. Allow me to be a comfort. If even to just one.
If I can do all of this then my job will be worth it. Worth all the pain it causes me and won’t be in vane. “
The 45 year old daughter who tearfully looks at me and in a quiet, solemn voice asks, “ How will my Daddy die?”. What would you say???
This one stunned me. A total loss of thought and words. We sat in silence, for what seemed forever. Then I took her hands in mine, looked deep into those tearful eyes and said these words. “ I do not know how he will die, nor do I know when he will die, but I make this promise to you, here and now. He will not suffer, he will feel no pain. With every fiber of my being I swear to you that this is how he will die. With you by his side , no pain and comfortable. Comfortable. He will die this way. “
The tears flowed more freely, yet as she sobbed the tension and stress disappeared from her face. Prayer answered. She trusted me with this. This the single most important part of any human journey. But not just any human, her Father, her Hero, her Everything.
I kept my promise. This magnificent man, the decorated war hero died quietly, without pain nor fear and his daughter at his side. He was joining his Brothers whom he lost so many wars ago.
This makes a cut then a scar on my heart. The sadness I carry always. Yet I helped someone, that’s just what I do.
ReplyDeleteTheir names may elude me, their faces fade away but their deaths are not forgotten. As I always wear the scar on my heart. The sadness in my soul.
It only worsens every time I say these words……” I’m sorry they have passed. “
I remember some better than others but none have been forgotten. Never will I forget every time I say those words.
Sherrie A. Crumley, RN
09/29/11
Yes I agree with you that we should all thank the nurses who take care of the ill and suffering. I have such respect for nurses. Imagine a world without nurses and where would we all be? This poem is good tribute to them. Thank you nurses and thank you for giving us this poem.
ReplyDeleteIt's quite difficult "in the moment" to thank those who provide such a gift. Perhaps, every day, we can offer a 'thank you' to a variety of people who, in turn, will do the same. Perhaps one day, the Sherrie's of the world will benefit from that directly.
ReplyDeleteSo, thank you Clarissa for being fully "yourself". Thank you D.M. Lee for sharing your gifts and the lives of others with us.