Gnomes

“Do you see him up there?” She smiles and points up above the window. There sat a cute little gnome. She grabbed my hand and toured me around the house showing me the three others. “Aren’t they cute? They are my gnomes. They are so fun!” I asked, “Why are they so high up there?” She replied, “So the dogs won’t get them!” Ten minutes later, smiling all teeth, she grasped my hand and pointed, “Do you see them up there?! They are my gnomes! Aren’t they cute?!”

Opportunities

When we see that the end of life is near, this is an opportunity to make choices about how one wishes to spend their time. This is an opportunity to choose how and where to be cared for. I have termed the summer of 2024 “The Summer of Gnome.” Her last summer. Their last summer together.

Admittedly, I thought my Uncle crazy to take her to the lake this summer, as it was becoming more apparent that her condition was worsening. But he knew that a few good times still awaited them. Like the 4th of July when they sat on the boat holding hands watching the fireworks together one last time. Quiet moments spent on the deck watching the sunset while smooth jazz played in the background. Random dancing any and everywhere.

Some of their closest, life long friends came to visit. This is where the gnomes come in. Laurie’s dear friend Katie took her shopping at Hobby Lobby and Laurie discovered a gnome that she fell in love with. She bought and took it home to put on display. Over the summer she inherited several more gnomes that she and her friends would find on shopping trips. These gnomes served as a reminder of the love and warmth of those she treasured most.

Going home

When it became clear that the treatments were no longer working, the cancer progressing, he made the decision to take her to their home of 4 decades in Florida. He moved heaven and earth to get her and their beloved dogs there quickly. For two weeks their home filled with friends and family. Food, wine, laughter, music and stories were shared. The house was full of life, full of living, even while dying unfolded.

As we sat around the table visiting with friends over a delicious home cooked meal, he spoke of their life together there. How at Thanksgiving they would smoke a turkey breast and then just the two of them would share the meal on the patio. Underneath whimsical trees draped in moss they shared a delicious bottle of Napa Valley Cab while watching the sunset over the water. And they were content and happy just to be together. “We just enjoyed each other.” Early on they mutually decided not to have children and to devote their love to each other. They built a beautiful marriage spanning four decades. The secret? “Love always, don’t be angry, support each other and allow for space and independence.”

Fading

Day by day she grew weaker, her color faded and there were fewer glimpses of her. On her rally day, she got up and sat in the chair next to her bed. Watching an action flick with one of her best friends, they giggled over hot bodies and predicted the next action packed event. She seemed more herself. Her caregiver, Brienn, asked me if maybe we were wrong, that perhaps she was improving. But I knew what this day signified. At the end of the day, as we sat and discussed her decline, a heron appeared on the dock, flapping its wings, a sign that death was near.

The next day she had grown much weaker. It took all her strength just to get up to use the restroom. While Doug took a moment of respite, I sat next to her on the bed and played worship music. O’Come to the Alter was playing.

“You’ve heard this one before.”

“I have?”

“Yes, they played it at Nolan’s celebration of life.”

“Oh. What happened to him?”

“He died of cancer.”

“That’s so sad. He was so little. I loved that little guy. I miss him.”

I asked, “Have you seen him recently?”

She stated matter of fact, “Yep.”

“Nolan is in heaven waiting for the day when he will see all of us again. When we believe in Jesus we get to go to heaven. That gives us great hope. Do you believe in Jesus, Laurie?”

“Yes. Is he here?”

“Who, Jesus?”

“Yes. Is he here?”

“Yes, Laurie girl, he is here with us right now and he loves you so, so much.”

“Hmmmm.” She closes her eyes and smiles pleasantly, contentedly.

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“Are you worried about anything?”

“No.”

“Are you at peace?”

“Yep.”

She opened her eyes and looked at me and stated, “I’m thinking about you.”

“What are you thinking about me?”

“You take care of everyone.”

Reaching both hands to my face, she pulled me to her and hugged me as I sobbed, rubbing my back, taking care of me. Even in her suffering she was in tune with my feelings. She knew I needed my cup filled and she used her precious energy to do just that.

Prepare for the end of life

We live in a time where medical advances have permitted people to live longer. Often in our zeal to prolong life we fail to consider how this impacts quality of life. Simply prolonging life is not enough. The suffering that patients and their families endure at the hands of advanced medical therapies can leave trauma and scars that last a lifetime. And we live in a culture where we have come to feel that death is medical failure rather than the natural life process. I encourage you to take the time to visit with your loved ones about their end of life wishes. Where do they want to be when they die? How do they want to be cared for? How do they define a good quality of life? What are they willing to trade off to prolong life? What does their summer of gnome look like? Honoring these wishes to the best of your ability can bring peace and comfort during a difficult time.

Beautiful ending

Countless times that week I heard him say to her, “I love you Laurie-girl. How much do I love you?” And no matter how tired or annoyed she was, she would reply, “To the moon and back.” As she took her final breaths while he held her, he whispered to her, “I love you, Laurie, to the moon and back.”

I have accompanied inumerable people at the end of their life. I have physically held a human being in my arms as they have taken their last breath. But it is so much different being the family member caring for the dying person. The exhaustion, loss of sense of time and direction is not like anything I have ever experienced before. Every minute was worth it. To be a small part of caring for someone so dear was a true blessing. The summer that my Uncle gave her, the summer of gnome, was a beautiful ending to a beautiful life.