Comments on: Last Dying Words https://withloveandlight.com/articles-by-jamie/last-dying-words/ Tue, 03 Apr 2012 15:55:57 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.2 By: Marco https://withloveandlight.com/articles-by-jamie/last-dying-words/comment-page-1/#comment-64 Marco Mon, 26 Oct 2009 23:47:36 +0000 http://www.withloveandlight.com/?p=60#comment-64 The only last words of someone close to me that I'm aware of were my father's. Dying in hospital, in Rome, Italy, from complications of recurrent strokes, he had lost his ability to speak his native Italian and could speak only his second language - true British English. He was unable to converse with his nurses. My brother, an American trained physician, visited him. My brother told me that our father's last words were, "This is madness." Although my brother spent more time over the years with our father than I did, I've always felt my brother never understood him, or his way of thinking. My brother dismissed those last words as the raving of a stroke addled mind and considered the matter closed. I heard those words as so typical of how my father would assess the miserable state of lying in solitary (both physically and communicatively) awaiting the inevitable while the medical staff tested and medicated him - to what purpose? That day I "lost" my father; and, again, my brother went "missing in action." Marco The only last words of someone close to me that I’m aware of were my father’s. Dying in hospital, in Rome, Italy, from complications of recurrent strokes, he had lost his ability to speak his native Italian and could speak only his second language – true British English. He was unable to converse with his nurses. My brother, an American trained physician, visited him. My brother told me that our father’s last words were, “This is madness.”

Although my brother spent more time over the years with our father than I did, I’ve always felt my brother never understood him, or his way of thinking. My brother dismissed those last words as the raving of a stroke addled mind and considered the matter closed. I heard those words as so typical of how my father would assess the miserable state of lying in solitary (both physically and communicatively) awaiting the inevitable while the medical staff tested and medicated him – to what purpose?

That day I “lost” my father; and, again, my brother went “missing in action.” Marco

]]> By: Jamie Wise https://withloveandlight.com/articles-by-jamie/last-dying-words/comment-page-1/#comment-17 Jamie Wise Tue, 10 Mar 2009 14:35:16 +0000 http://www.withloveandlight.com/?p=60#comment-17 I have tortured myself with the same thoughts. My dad was in a coma for a week following a brain aneurysm. As he laid in that bed for a week, hooked to all sorts of machines completely helpless, totally exposed for all of those to see who came to his bedside, I cringed inside because my dad was such a private person...private to the extreme. I only remember him being in the hospital one other time and he refused to change out of his street clothes and into a hospital gown. He wouldn't even lay in the bed...he sat in a chair in the hospital room until everyone left for the night. He refused to let anyone see him as vulnerable. So as he's laying there dying under prying eyes by some who hadn't seen my dad in years. I wondered what he would have thought of this and how he would be mortified to know these people were looking at him in this condition and it hurt my soul because I've never seen a weak or vulnerable side to my dad...he was always the tough, nothing can hurt me big man. When I had a reading with Jamie she said that he conveyed to her that he felt loved and cared for. That he didn't feel like he deserved the love he was getting from us as we sat with him. Nothing came up about the others who briefly stopped in to "visit" (look-see). So this was comforting to me, however it was 9 months after he passed that I first spoke with Jamie so I had carried these feelings around for quite a while. Jamie Gum Wise I have tortured myself with the same thoughts. My dad was in a coma for a week following a brain aneurysm. As he laid in that bed for a week, hooked to all sorts of machines completely helpless, totally exposed for all of those to see who came to his bedside, I cringed inside because my dad was such a private person…private to the extreme. I only remember him being in the hospital one other time and he refused to change out of his street clothes and into a hospital gown. He wouldn’t even lay in the bed…he sat in a chair in the hospital room until everyone left for the night. He refused to let anyone see him as vulnerable.

So as he’s laying there dying under prying eyes by some who hadn’t seen my dad in years. I wondered what he would have thought of this and how he would be mortified to know these people were looking at him in this condition and it hurt my soul because I’ve never seen a weak or vulnerable side to my dad…he was always the tough, nothing can hurt me big man.

When I had a reading with Jamie she said that he conveyed to her that he felt loved and cared for. That he didn’t feel like he deserved the love he was getting from us as we sat with him. Nothing came up about the others who briefly stopped in to “visit” (look-see). So this was comforting to me, however it was 9 months after he passed that I first spoke with Jamie so I had carried these feelings around for quite a while.
Jamie Gum Wise

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