A Letter from Melissa.

For those of us working in the realm of End-of-Life, we are often gifted with writings of those we are in community with as we midwife crossings.

As I have been on this journey, the last year I have been gifted with a sister in my community to support me, as I her. We have helped with resumes, school decisions, writing projects and the delicious love of the seasons and treasures of the Goddess.
Melissa is one of the few women that I have felt a true connection with in my new community. She became a Hospice volunteer after caring for her elderly mother until her crossing a year ago. In this past month, her father crossed over, midwifed by the loving presence of Melissa. Melissa who is now wiser, more gentle, caring for her personal energy and knowing her inner strength that are different to her than when she cared for her mother.

It's with her permission I share her story of her final days with her father.
Here is her letter of her fathers crossing..

Dear Ones~

Dad completed his earthly journey this morning at 11:25 a.m. I was alone with him in his quiet, peaceful bedroom. He had a fever and I was gently washing his face with a soft, cool, baby washcloth. I said a blessing aloud over him and placed my hand lightly over his heart. Several light breaths later, he was gone.

The Hospice Home Health Aide that had assisted dad with his personal care several times per week was able to arrive and help Neil, Stella, and I with bathing dad from the top of his head to the tip of his battered old toes, massaging him with lavendar essential oil scented body cream, and then dressing him in his favorite outfit of faded old Levi jeans, a red plaid Eddie Bauer shirt that he adored, and his worn-down sheepskin slippers. We played a C.D. that we had made from some of his favorite songs we downloaded from the web; i.e. Jo Stafford's "I'll Be Seeing You" (his favorite love song for mom that we had played at her memorial service), "Dock of the Bay", "Wichita Lineman", and "King of theRoad".

I tucked a black and white photo of he and mom's wedding picture into his shirt pocket for a finishing touch!

My brother (being a sheriff) knows the undertaker of the funeral home we chose, and he helped to wrap dad in the sheets, put him in the body bag, and then assist in transporting him downstairs.

I am proud of the way Neil, Stella, and I worked together to assure the best setting/support for dad to make his final journey. We have worked well together, each offering the special strengths that we each possess.

The very large retirement center where he has lived for 3 years also surprised me with their warmth, genuine concern, and love/enjoyment of dad. The staff bent over backwards to help us - and many of the residents that he had befriended approached us in the hallways, called, or stopped by to see him.

Tonight we are all exhausted, and of course there are many details to take care of now. I am his designated Power of Attorney, so will need to attend to a number of financial scenarios. We also need to sort through and pack up his apartment. And the biggest challenge at the moment is to find an appropriate and loving home for his beloved Maine Coone/Manx cat, "Max".

Dad requested no memorial service of any kind. He simply wants to be cremated and have his ashes scattered where we released mom's several years ago - off the cliff at a beautiful county park campground outside of Port Angeles that sits on the Strait of Juan De Fuca, right across from Victoria on Vancouver Island.

Neil, Stella, and I plan to pack up his apartment and head on back to Port Townsend at the end of this month to accomplish this together. It will feel good to have this kind of closure. Dad would have celebrated his 82nd birthday next Wednesday.

I cannot express the gratitude I feel at being able to be present, assist, and witness both of my parent's final days. It is hard to explain. Yesterday when the dear, young Samoan housekeeper who was responsible for cleaning dad's apartment every week stopped by to dump the trash, I told her that dad was near death. I asked her how eldercare and dying is handled in her culture. Her eyes got very big and she described, in her broken English, how elders are always respected and cared for within the family home. She shook her head and said, "We would NEVER put them in the places that you have here!"

I know this is not always possible (after all, we chose to move my mother into a small adult family home for the last two weeks of her life because my father and I simply could not address her increasing demands), but I have learned that it can almost always be a possibility if hospice is involved and other family members and friends are willing to step forward. I am seeing how everyone may be blessed and enriched by it. My motto these past days has truly been, "It takes a village."

The next few weeks will be very busy, but I am relieved that I can take my time and process all of this in my own way. I can see how I have done it "differently" this time, in terms of personal care of my body/mind/spirit, than I did with mom. It feels great. And empowering.

Thank you all for your love, prayers, rituals, and support~

Melissa