This
post is not meant to be morbid nor depressing.
Hopefully, you will gain some insights about the last conversations you
may ever have with a spouse, parent, sibling or someone very close to you. These thoughts are based on the book – The Four Things that Matter Most by Ira
Byock, M.D.
When
someone you cherish is facing their last days on this earth, it is doubtful you’ll
have conversations about the weather or the recent Mariner’s or Seahawk’s
game. You probably won’t brag about the
new Lexus you just purchased either. I
hope you go much deeper than all of that.
If
you are like a lot of people, you want your last breath, and the breath of your
loved one, done right. You want to say
the right words at the right time. Usually, those words fit into four neat
phrases.
“Please forgive
me.”
“I forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
“I love you.”
I
hope you seek to fill those final conversations full of loving and esteeming relationship
restoration moments. Make magical memories
for those who will be left behind.
Dr.
Byock tells a touching story of a man named Ira and his father’s last
days. The short version of the story is
this: The father had always been a man
of stern disposition. He never showed
emotion and never expressed the “I
love you” words.
During
the last month of life his father asked Ira to give him a shave during one of
his morning visits. Ira was taken aback
at this request, but quickly consented and got the shaving tools needed.
He
placed a hot towel on his father’s face, and they began talking softly all
during the process. Ira used the soap
cup and brush his father had used his whole life, which happened to be the same
soap, cup and razor his father used when teaching Ira to shave as a teenager. After he finished, his father asked him if he
would come and do that again.
Ira
consented, and soon realized that his dad didn’t need his son to shave him. The hospice team had been doing that. His father simply wanted Ira to touch him. Touch is one of the most powerful forms of
communication when words fail us.
Ira
reflected after his father’s death: “It was something he needed, and it was
obviously something I needed as well.
Touching my father was magical. We
communicated more love to each other during those times than we ever had in all
our lives.”
My
wife Carolyn tells a similar story of her father’s wish for her to shave him
during his last days. Though they had a
good and healthy relationship, this simple act of touch and gentle
conversations had an impact that was magical, esteeming and memorable.
We
all will have those final crucial conversations. I hope they become rich memories and
restorative moments in your relationships.
P Michael Biggs
Offering
Hope
Encouragement
Inspiration
One Word
at a Time
