Who Will Hold Your Hand When You Die?

I cringe when people say I'm too nice. I'm confused when friends tell me I should be angry at those who have deliberately done me wrong in my lifetime. I am saddened when I see my co-workers being rude and spiteful and seeking revenge. I wish we could all hold hands at the end of each day and say, "Let's all just be nice". We all agree that life is short, but few of us really live like we believe that.

I've held the hand of many patients as they take their last breath and I've heard the last heartbeat with my stethoscope. I can't count the number of times I've sat alone with a dying person and just held their hand. The relatives and friends are long parted or haven't made it to the bedside in time. I've had a near death experience myself so I can confidently report that there are no emotions when you die; just the peacefulness of death's passage. Nothing of the past changes the dying.

Not too long ago - or maybe it was a long time ago - my patient who had a terminal illness but wasn't gravely ill suddenly died. I called the daughter and told her to come right away but didn't tell her that her mother had died. The daughter was terribly distraught at the sight of her mother and begged me to tell her that her mother wasn't dead..

"I could never live with myself if I didn't make it in time. I promised mom I'd be there. Please tell me she's still alive" (The patient looked very deceased to me!) But, as the daughter hugged her mother to her heart I got out my stethocospe and said, "Shhhhh. Let me listen." Then I said, "I think I heard a faint heartbeat. Tell your mother goodbye now." She cried and said all the things she should have said to her mother over the years then she turned to me and said, "thank-you" and left the room.

Surely every one of us faces the question death and dying but few live as if it might happen anytime soon. It's a subject we usually prefer to avoid. I think of it a lot because for over 35 years it's been a part of my daily work to deal with death. Us nurses get close to our patients (young or old) and when they die in our care, we reflect on how it affects us. It makes me want to live each day like it could be my last - or not! And, I do sometimes wonder who will hold my hand...

My guardian angel often uses the radio to give me answers to my inquiring questions about discouragement and frustrations of daily life. You may chuckle if you don't believe in angels or have the guidance of a higher power. Believe me, I don't listen to the radio much because after the first song, I'm usually bored. But many times when a problem has been heavy on my mind while I'm driving, I turn on the radio and have an answer within a few minutes.

Just a few days ago I was questioning my faith and belief in something. Finances uncertain, my jobs troubling and friends seemed few and far between. I was driving to my second job (no days off in months!) and as I stopped at a long redlight, I ordered my angel to "give me an answer". I said, "If there are really angels looking after me, I want to hear the announcer say that in the last hour they played a song with the word 'angel' in it." Well, he listed all the songs they just played and there was nothing about angels.

I drove on a bit disappointed but not sure how discouraged I was. I pushed the button searching for something to keep my interest. Suddenly a song was starting that I knew. It was, of course, about an angel sent to watch over me! I remembered the song and sang along with it! I hugged myself with delight and still smile when I remember the incident.

Once when I got to work, the two 7-3 nurses were at odds with each other. As one nurse was walking down the hall she turned and yelled at the other nurse, "Mind your own business". The second nurse hollered back, "You need to get over your mad cow disease!"

This exchange as each nurse is another moment closer to death!

My husband is taking his Master's Degree online and sometimes there is miscommunication in the confines of cyberspace education. If not checked, words become capital letters and angry jabs are thrown back and forth until some calm mediator comes in and redirects everyone back to the task at hand. It is amazing to see how nice professional cyperpeople can become controlling monsters in space! Do they realize they are in the process of dying as they slam angry words back and forth?

One of my new nursing jobs included going back to a facility where I had previously been the supervisor. I returned as a regular staff nurse, but was met with some animosity and distrust because I had been the "boss" a couple years earlier. I understood the wariness but didn't expect the same staff I had worked so well with before to be insulting and rude now. I finally left that job because I realized that courtesy and respect had been replaced by greed and selfishness.

I really needed the money that job provided and at first I trusted that the staff meant me no harm, but soon things were said and done that could affect my nursing license. Maybe I should have been bold and rude and stood my ground, but I believe in living each day as if I might die tonight. I think those nurses have forgotten they are dying too.

Something much better is waiting for me around the corner, my angel assures me.

At another job, I really liked the afternoon staff. I had applied for the position because of a sign-on bonus and was willing to put up with any of the nasty conditions that nursing homes are known for. Most nurses don't like working in nursing homes but this one was clean and had high standards. I was pleasantly surprised at how nice the job was.

Then, I noticed bad vibes between two administrators. Every day I would see one more episode in the saga of power and management. These were two professionals who expected harmony and trust from the employees but couldn't give it to each other. They worked in a facility where people are in the last years of life and where death comes softly all the time. This man and woman had forgotten they are on the same short path of life and death and soon none of this will matter.

Every day or so there's a note at the nurses station regarding a family member who isn't allowed to visit anymore. The family member who gets POA decides who can visit and who can't. I once took care of a man in his 50's who had a stroke and was in a vegetative state with a feeding tube. This man's wife dictated that his own mother could only visit three times a week for one hour at a time.

The wife was hardly ever there, but the crippled mother hobbled in every other day and someone waited outside in a car while she spent a few moments with her son. She read the paper to him or fussed with his hair. Sometimes she forgot her hour was up and the driver would come in and yell at her because he had to wait a few minutes extra.

In another situation, we got a note that a daughter could not visit her mother and we were to stop her if she came into the building. The daughter had gotten into an argument with her brother who was Power Of Attorney. Our patient was somewhat confused and keept asking us to call her daughter and see why she hadn't been in to bring her favorite foods and clean clothes. I told her the phone was broken.

It doesn't matter if you have been the president of the company, a great leader in our country or just worked hard all your life to support your family. What means the most is if you know you have done your best and are ready for that moment in time. All that is left are the memories that people have of you. Those who hold your hand will and remember your touch and the good you did for others.

Take Care On the (Short) Journey of Life,

Love, Linda

Contact Information

My email for this blog is lindasbook@usa.com

To read another chapter, just click the title on the left side of this page and it will bring up that chapter.

You can click lindasbook@usa.com to send me an email, or at the end of each chapter there's a small comment area. Click the envelope and follow directions to send me an email. I check for email most every day.

Take Care on Your Journey!

~Linda

Linda Cash - for 23 years!

My boys must be thinking, “What’s mom going to write about dad?”

After all, Bill Cash and I were married for over 23 years. We married when I was 20 years old and a few days past graduating from school as a Licensed Practical Nurse. When we divorced he had his PhD and I was still a hard working LPN.

Bill was a senior at Southern College, Collegedale, TN back in 1970. We met at my first alumni homecoming at Laurelbrook School where I graduated from high school. After a long alumni-hosted afternoon walk, he asked me to be his steady girl and we said an emotional good-by at the airport as I left to return to LPN school in Dayton, Ohio.

We planned the wedding while I was away at school. We got married upon my return during his Spring Break on March 7, 1971.

I remember one thought that I had on my wedding day. “I don’t care if I am this happy for only one day, it will be worth it!”

In the end, Bill told me I was still the loving sweet person he had married but we had grown apart in too many ways. Whatever we saw in each other on that alumni reunion day wasn’t enough to keep us whole for all those years. The church was the walls that held us together and our two boys were the glue that held us together. Both of us are very proud of Billy and Philip. We do share that in common!

A few days ago I was chatting long distance to an old friend, Neil Hunt. Neil has been a mutual friend since before Billy was born. Neil commented that the hardest part about the divorce was not seeing Bill and I together. It seemed that we had always been together! We had created a family civilization, and I’m sure our family and friends were just as perplexed as to why we split up and how to react as our boys were.

Especially hurt was Philip, and to this day I still feel sorry for the hurt he experienced. But, Philip recently reminded me that both of us (his parents) have changed over the years having learned lessons from the past. My wise son said when a relationship is in trouble, "both feel the hurt of it".

Having said that, and if you’re still reading this, we did have lots of good times and carried on a fairly normal existence as a family. I think what held us together the most was our affiliation with the Seventh-day Adventist church. We were both leaders and contributed in many ways especially to the Eau Claire SDA Church and School in Eau Claire, Michigan.

As the boys got older, I followed them through each little Sabbath School department leading out in the Kindergarten, Junior and other classes. I often played the piano or told stories from the Bible or provided activities. . And, I always enjoyed being with my boys!

I still recall fondly the times Bill and I provided special music at church services with him at the piano and me playing the flute. We played, “The Holy City” to hushed audiences and it still chills me to remember how well we did that together! It is such a majestic song!

But, deep down I didn’t feel comfortable with Bill and perhaps he didn’t with me. We never took the time to really know the true person inside each other and ourselves. My low self-esteem and his ‘know-all’ attitude didn’t help. I felt that it was impossible for me to make him happy no matter how hard I tried to please him.

My cooking wasn’t good enough. I didn’t control spending the way I should. I didn’t keep up with him socially and I couldn’t say no when others asked for my help.

Eventually Grandma Mascunana needed care and I was the only family member who couldn’t say no to her. She moved to a nearby retirement home and demanded constant medical care and a lot of the very limited time that I had with my family. I was working 16-18 hours a day as a nurse and even then we couldn’t pay all the bills. Grandma also continued to be ungrateful and inconsiderate of my feelings.

I was feeling the frustration that had surfaced so many times with grandma, only now I could see a way out and was finally able to walk away. He wasn’t a bad man, just someone I couldn’t live with and continue breathing!

The final good-by was swift and complete. It was decided right after I won the election for township clerk. I think he was shocked that I had won! His comment was that having won the election, I would be able to take care of myself and perhaps wouldn’t feel abandoned if we divorced. He knew my biggest fear in life was that I’d be left all alone again.

I was afraid we would get divorced but he would still continue to control me, so I wanted a clean break. I was also concerned that he would consider me “clingy” if we continued to keep in touch on a regular basis. Obiviously, I wanted to live my life “my way”.

Bill didn’t want me to have any communication with his mother who always said I was like a daughter she never had. His mother and I respected Bill’s wishes for several years, but we still send birthday and Christmas cards. I was careful to disassociate myself from his dad who was always very kind to me because Bill was often jealous of that relationship even when we were married. Billy was away at college and Philip was almost ready for college. So in the end, I did have an empty nest but I discovered that I was stronger than I thought!

I have many stories already written during the times the boys were growing up and will add this to this book soon now that I've cleared the way by explaining about me and Bill Cash. There will be a better understanding of the way we lived when I was 20-40 years old.