Phase one: two ravens at Yosemite

In November 2013 Grace, Martha, her husband Ralph, and I drove to Yosemite for an Autumn adventure. Unfortunately, Grace had difficulty getting enough oxygen from her portable concentrator, so she stayed in her room resting most of the time. This marked the beginning of her decline. We came home early to a quiet Thanksgiving.

This photo of two ravens near our room could have been a sign. However, Grace delighted in the intelligence and playfulness of this species, not their legendary status as birds of death.

We celebrated Grace’s birthday on December 6, with Old Timey music by Ernie Noyes and many questions to Grace about her life. The next Tuesday night she asked me to take her to ER at Kaiser where she was soon admitted to the hospital. (We laughed at a baby-talking ER doc who was otherwise quite friendly.) By Thursday her doctors agreed that she was experiencing cardio-renal syndrome (congestive heart failure linked with kidney failure). They said no further treatment would help and recommended enrolling in home hospice as soon as possible. As a parting gift they dosed her with morphine her last night in the hospital to see how she handled it. Contrary to their expectations she was still stoned when I brought her home. She sat in the car for a long time listening to the birds, including our neighborhood ravens, and enjoying the warm breezes.

Grace maintained remarkable balance through all of this. Both of us had been in death and dying boot camp for three years, since her lung cancer diagnosis. Decades of spiritual practice had given Grace a deep awareness of impermanence and the certainty of death. Martha and Ralph joined us in acceptance of this being Grace’s last months and commitment to all of us living well.

We hung a Sogyal Rinpoche poster on the wall: “When you breathe out, suddenly you can’t breath in . . . it is finished.” I read to Grace from his “Tibetan Book of Living and Dying”, both of us trying out the ancient practices for conscious dying.

Phase 2: Home hospice and living with grace

Within a week Heartland Hospice installed a hospital bed in our living room and a case manager nurse, home health aide, and massage therapist started weekly visits. A social worker and physical therapist also came to help us adjust to the new lifestyle.

On another level, friends hung Tibetan prayer flags across the living room and helped me put up photos of Grace, her family, our spiritual teachers, and owls, one of her favorite animals. At one point Grace said, “Wow, I’m just a little girl from Dell Rapids.”  For Christmas I hung Grace’s jewelry on Donald’s mother’s rubber plant that we’ve carried from place to place since 1985.

Colleen, a friend from Seattle whom Grace and I married to Alan, came so I could get some rest at the coast. Mary Lou, Grace’s friend for almost forty years visited and asked her to help her learn how to die. Nieces Judy and Kate and nephew Doug visited.

Gradually Grace’s breathing became more difficult, especially when moving about. She used lavender essential oil throughout the day to ease the constriction in her chest. When it became acute she needed morphine.

In spite of the discomfort and indignities of the bedridden she remained totally graceful, seldom complaining. She would always find hidden energy to come up for a phone call or visit with love and laughter.

She continued watching her favorite tv shows, along with Bollywood dance extravaganzas, comedies, and concerts. We were both deeply moved (and rocked) by the Bruce Springsteen in Dublin concert. Not the E-street band but a stage full of The Sessions band, often playing as a giant Kerry Band. We sobbed together when Bruce and others sang this song:

Further up the road, further up the road
I’ll meet you further on up the road
Where the way is dark and the night is cold.
Meet you further on up the road.

Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed
Where the gun is cocked and the bullet’s cold
Where the miles are marked in the blood and gold
I’ll meet you further on up the road

Got on my dead man’s suit and my smilin’ skull ring
My lucky graveyard boots and song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
And I’ll meet you further on up the road.

Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Where the way dark and the night is cold
One sunny mornin’ we’ll rise I know
And I’ll meet you further on up the road.

Now I been out in the desert, just doin’ my time
Searchin’ through the dust, lookin’ for a sign
If there’s a light up ahead well brother I don’t know
But I got this fever burnin’ in my soul
So let’s take the good times as they go
And I’ll meet you further on up the road

Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road

One sunny mornin’ we’ll rise I know
And I’ll meet you further on up the road
One sunny mornin’ we’ll rise I know
And I’ll meet you further on up the road.

for this performance go to Further on

At the end Grace said to me: “I’ll see you on the other side.”

I responded, singing, “Further up the road, further up the road. I’ll meet you further on up the road.”