Lifeforce

Sandy visited today and, by now, she seems more like a family friend than a hospice nurse. She confirmed our sense that something felt different with Craig -- a slowing down, a restlessness sometimes called "terminal agitation", and a growing difficulty staying awake. It looks as though you could wash clothes on his cheeks and jaw line; Sandy noted increased thinning near his temples, as well. He's hallucinating more, taking the remote with him to his forehead almost as if to cast a fishing line. With eyes rolled back and pale skin, anyone walking through the door might think he's "transitioning". But, Craig's "life force" is strong and unpredictable. We know full well Craig marches to the beat of his own drum.

Before today, there seemed to be a growing and recognizable desperation in his eyes as if a life raft had pulled too far from reach. His breathing accelerated, his temperament distressed, he visibly seemed different and grimaced as we turned him instead of vocalizing his needs. Sometime late last night, he had a turning point, perhaps a return to equilibrium or at least a departure from his distressed state. His breathing is heavier now, deeper. Apart from one event, he slept through the night without his ritualistic waking up, whereas the night before he was up throughout the night. He falls asleep or drifts away without warning and he's sleeping harder, longer.

Luckily, Gloria, the harpist (tenderly called "harpy"), had her fourth visit shortly after Sandy. We have an almost compulsive need to add "ie" to every word from sockies, to feetsies, to sodies. Sandy is fortunate to follow the rules, but "Gloria-y" doesn't quite gel - so "harpy", it is.  Soft, peaceful, beautiful, melodic her sound filled the small room as Craig quietly slept with eyes wide open. Occasionally, he'd kick his feet or raise his eyebrows, telling us all he's lost in some unknown dream with unknown company. We all hope Mom is with him, walking beside him, waiting for him in his dreams or hallucinations.

As she had each time before, Harpy transitioned into a crowd favorite - a Gaelic lullaby. "Little bird, little sparrow. Go to sleep now, take your rest now. Little eagle, little blue jay. Go to sleep now, take your rest. Take your rest now, in the trees and with the breeze, now, in the breeze. Take your rest now, in the trees and with the breeze now, take your rest." (Jill told her we hum the tune throughout the day, so now she looks at Jill through her harp strings and beckons her to sing along. Diane and I will surely bring our popcorn and lawn chairs for that occasion). Though the vocal content is a bit "airy fairy" as Craig would say, it brings tears to our eyes in recognition of her purpose, her intent. She's helping Craig to be at peace with life and to slowly let go, in his own terms and his own time. Her presence today was especially poignant.

Yet, to no surprise, in the midst of his deep sleep, hallucinations and the like, he draws strength from that incomparable "life force" and pulls out of it; he finds his voice (though quiet) and his strength.  

There's something pulling him away and yet there's his will bringing him back. These are the cross-currents of his process. The goal is to wade in them gracefully, and go with the flow. ~E