Loss and Dignity...

We lost my grandfather on Sunday. It was so strange - everyone thought he was going to recover just fine after surgery on Tuesday to remove part of his stomach. Cancer.

He had been walking around, talking. But a cohort of complications snowballed and he went down fast. His parents lived to 92 and 94 but he was only 77. We never expected it.

My grandmother said, "It feels like a nightmare and I can't wake up."

Both my parents, but my father in particular, sobbed like I've never seen. My father is fiercely afraid of hell for his atheist mother and father, which made the whole process so much darker for him.

But a funny thing: when my mother kissed his head as they took him off life support, she whispered, "We'll see you again someday, sweetheart."

My friend Jim Henderson says most Christians have "secret beliefs," things "we know we know" but won't admit to in public because they may not fit our particular theologies. The issue of hell is a common one. People who have lost loved ones who lived lives of love, hope and... were perhaps weak in faith... know that the Lord is good and trust to his mercy, apart from judgment and damnation.

Usually I'm an emotional mess, but I found myself tougher than usual for my parents - something I needed to see in myself.

As I watched my grandfather's body heave up and down from the respirator, I thought of how unnatural the motions looked. I visualized him held under water, trying to float to the surface, but kept down so that only his nostrils reached the air above. A torturous, ongoing grab at life.

I never comprehended the phrase "death with dignity" till that moment. I understand the desire to avoid long, ongoing life support when it was time for a life to go, but the "dignity" aspect never resonated because I'd never seen the horrific, unearthly visual of a real man held, not in stasis, but in violent, crude, even offensive half-life-limbo.

We let him go. My grandmother had them pull the plugs. She didn't even go to see him in those final hours. She had said goodbye and would not cloud her memories with ghoulish images of the machine-bound man who was ready to go. I'm glad.


Now, to have a chat with my father about hell... I guess I'll start by having him read McLaren's The Last Word... And the Word After That.


please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/