Two people who have been important in our lives are now in
hospice. Their names are Paul Longacre and Maurice White. When we hear that
word – hospice, we immediately know what it means – among other things, caring
for and honoring one who is dying and an acceptance and letting go of this life.
The word brings forth the feeling of imminence
– something hanging threateningly over one, ready to happen. But perhaps the sense
of finality also elicits a reaction of mystery and wonder – a goodly reminder
that the earthly journey will end soon enough for all of us.
We have not seen Paul for many years but lots of his friends
and former colleagues are exchanging reminiscences and messages of nostalgia
with each other and with Paul, remembering those transformative times in our
lives together during our sojourns in Viet Nam in the 60s and 70s. Paul, a
Mennonite, has lived the life of a servant of the poor and peacemaker - an image of
a good and faithful servant of the Lord easily comes to mind.
Maurice is our brother-in-law, a gentle and unassuming man,
born in Arkansas in the segregated South almost 78 years ago. He joined the great migration of African
Americans coming to the North in the 50s and 60s and came to Minneapolis, where
he met and married Romell, Judy’s sister, over fifty years ago. They lived the
meaning – both the pains and the gains of the civil rights movement of the
60s. Their life-long journey and
commitment to each other has been one of a witness to racial justice and
solidarity with the needs of others and progressive causes in Minneapolis.
Paul and Maurice are many miles from us – in their homes in
Virginia and Minnesota, with family and other loved ones present and attentive
to their every need during these days.
Through the phone and computer we hear the brief descriptions – they are
tired, they rest and sleep a lot, not eating much, etc. So it is left to my mental and intuitive
faculties to try to “see” them, to sense what they are going through. Thoughts
and images come in and out of consciousness – the prayer without ceasing that
St Paul wrote about, but I am afraid I don’t even get close to understanding. But in my bones I feel and hope that they are at peace.
As we come to the end of the Lenten season, thoughts of dying,
eternity and the life after this one have been on my mind a lot, not morbidly,
but with a sense of anticipation and hope.
Easter is just ahead, though we will go through Good Friday before we
get there – and then the resurrection!
Thanks for this, Jerry!
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