Wednesday, August 12, 2015

"We're gonna do this death thing, friends"

Early this last Sunday The Great Aunt passed. It was a long battle she fought against age and death and Alzheimer’s. We will miss her lovely smile, her acerbic humor and her generous acceptance of those she loved. She was the dearest aunt and a surrogate mother to my husband. We are sorrowful, but we are also relieved that she finally rests from this battle.

Those of you who know us also know we have another friend who has fought a different set of mortal enemies – stage IV prostate cancer. Ed Hague was diagnosed a little more than three years ago, so to have lived this long probably, no it does, qualify as a miracle. 

Today he posted what may be his final blog. I don’t know. Read it and then read backwards. You may find what you need for living right where you are now. He would love that. 

If I stumble around, a bit blue and puffy-eyed, well, I just wanted you to know …  they say sadness goes, but grief stays somewhere tucked down in your heart. I wonder. Is this true? At my age, you’d think I’d have acquired some wisdom about this. And I’m thinking that perhaps for the moment, I have lost some heart. Perhaps it’s okay to not be all perky and bless-you kind of happy. For the moment. I posted the following comment on

Ed. Just staring into space. Hard to believe the time has come. Death sucks. We never get over it, no matter how hard we try to “celebrate” life – it’s just not how it was meant to be, is it? In one sense, I’m glad your journey is nearly over. It’s been an amazing ride. I already miss you.

I often repeat to myself, in many of life’s situations, the words of St. Julian of Norwich: “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” I take heart from this because I know she speaks of Jesus’ power to resurrect all kinds of things. Including the earth. Our relationships. Our bodies, our hearts. And now I say to myself, to God, “And Ed shall be well and all parts of Ed shall soon be well.”

For that I can say Thanks be to God.



Christine said...

Beautiful, Margie. Am so sorry about the Great Aunt, and about your friend Ed. As I mentioned to you, reading his entire blog has deeply impacted me. Thank you for your own honesty and vulnerability. Thinking of you and all who loved Denis's aunt and for the legions who have been touched by Ed Hague.

Bonnie said...

Thank you. May you know and feel comfort.

Dawn Miller said...

I sincerely appreciate your's and Ed's depth, and perspective. Your profound expressions have brought treasured thoughts and meaning to my life.

liz@carpeseason said...

I'm so sorry for these great losses, Margie. I pray that you will be full of hope-filled grief indeed, that you will look with great anticipation to the city with true foundation, whose very designer and builder is God himself. Love to you and yours.

Georgia Fyke Nesbitt said...

Apparently Dr. Fun (my dad) is reading John Donne's "Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions" at the moment. Not exactly a light read, but I've found this comforting