Clergy Guy presents another poignant slice of a part of life to which clergy have unusual access:
It was one of those late night vigils where the family was trying to find the resolve to turn off the machinery that kept the man breathing. His wife was hysterical, refusing to believe his brain was gone. She yelled at him to open his eyes, to get up from his bed, that he couldn’t leave her. But he was already gone, leaving behind a hissing ventilator and a screaming wife.
Her grown children tried to help, holding her tenderly, speaking softly, but she turned on them, and verbally attacked each of them. I found it hard to feel kind toward her. I wanted to tell her to pull it together because while her children were grown, they were still young and they needed her. But I resisted the impulse.
Read on for more of this story and ruminations on how most people deal with death in his experience.