Until We Meet Again
Until we see each other again
My cousin Bill Jones passed away this morning. I will miss him dearly. For many years he helped me take care of my parents. When he wasn’t doing this he was taking care of others who were ill. He was Chief of Anesthesiology for St. Elizabeth Hospital in Youngstown, Ohio. When your an only child you have friends and cousins to replace your brothers and sisters. I was lucky I got both in one.
When we were younger we had little in common but as we grew older our friendship grew and matured. In tragedy we learned we could lean on each other for support and unconditional love. A gift that provided us both comfort in even the most challenging times of including a death of a child and parent. I will miss our times talking in the garage shooting the bull and having a few beers. He always reminded me we can always be more and in many ways I have become more because of Bill’s prodding and our competitive spirits.
In treating my mother’s mental illness he reminded me it was often time physical as well as mental treatment that might make her healthy. He always made sure both my parents got the best treatment he could find.
When he was in hospice we would get together and talk about our lives together and what the future held for both of us. We would laugh until we cried. We said the things we wanted to while we were both able to appreciate them. Its why hospice works so well if you let it. I asked him to pass on a message to our loved ones who had already passed on before him. He would always chuckle and smile no matter how much the pain. Humor is something that always kept us together even in the worst of times and the best.
Last night I said goodbye to my Bill. I learned many rituals from my time in hospice community and they bring me comfort in dealing with the death of loved ones. They provide me the inner peace in knowing there is something beyond me that will provide them peace forever. I share with you my favorite writing on the nature of god. I share it with you as I did last night as I prayed for God’s gift of taking my cousin home last night.
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
