My friend, Lisa, and her only son, Brian, were involved in a freak car
accident as they began a cross-country move. He was near death when I arrived at
the hospital-- deep coma, broken clavicle, bruised heart, bruised lungs, brain
damage, and ruptured diaphragm. E-mails went out for prayer -- for healing and
strength for the journey for all of us.
Brian survived that first night but remained in a deep coma. The doctor was not very optimistic about his recovery but needed time to see the CAT scans and further tests before they could give answers to our many questions.
On the second night, Brian's young friends began to call. Was there any thing they could do? Could they come and see him? Did we need anything? We discussed the possibility of them coming to see Brian and felt that would be to much for all of us to handle. We decided to allow Brian's girlfriend, Maria, and his best friend, Nate, to come for one night.
Courage
I explained to them just how Brian looked and all the equipment he was on before we went into the room. We asked them to try and encourage Brian, to talk to him and to tell him about things they were doing. At the door to the room, Maria stopped, backed away, cried for a brief moment and then proceeded into the room to hold Brian's hand and be with him. She told him how much she loved him and how he could do what he needed to do. Nate stood beside Maria to encourage her, tears sliding silently down his cheeks.
By day three, the CAT scan had worsened, the coma had not changed. The prognosis for Brian ever waking up was poor. He might survive but he probably would not wake up. We decided to have Maria stay with us and to sent Nate back to Boise until we knew more. Maria asked for permission to help the nurses with Brian's daily baths and cares.
A Circle Forms
A few days later we received a note from Nate. An adult friend gathered Brian's circle of friends and shared his prognosis with the group. Marilyn invited the teens to come, share and talk about Brian. She was surprised when about 30 teens showed up to participate in a ritual to say good-bye to Brian. Each of them had written letters to him. Some read their letters, others did not. When each teen was ready they placed their letters in the fire and told Brian how much they loved him.
With the help of one of the mothers, they drafted a letter to Lisa about how several of them had discussed being maintained on a ventilator. Brian had said to them that he would not choose such a life and that he would chose to donate his organs if possible. 42 people signed that letter. What a powerful, supportive statement it made to us at the bedside when the doctors were telling us it was time to begin to make some decisions about "quality of life". Brian could survive but he would have to be on a ventilator and in a nursing home all of his life. He would eventually die of pneumonia or some kind of infection but he would never regain consciousness.
With the support of the teens, her family and friends, Lisa was able to make the decision to take Brian off the ventilator. Prior to taking him off life support, we celebrated communion at his bedside. During the communion service, there was a brief moment, as Lisa was putting a drop of wine on Brian's lips, when the room filled with JOY. What a confirmation that the Holy Spirit was amongst us at this most difficult of times.
Brian survived for 26 hours after he was taken off the ventilator. During part of that time Maria sat on his bed, played his favorite music, talked to him, and suctioned his mouth as he couldn't swallow. We allowed Nate to return and be with Brian for that last day also. The Social Worker at the hospital told us later she had never seen two more loving and attentive friends care for a dying friend. Again we were touched by the love and commitment to Brian shown by Nate and Maria.
Rituals of Release
I was confounded by the depth of care they showed on the night he died. Putting aside their own grief, these 17- year - olds asked Lisa for permission to give Brian his final bath and dress him in his favorite clothes before they took him to the funeral home. They bathed and dressed him with such loving care.
We returned to Boise a week later to have a "Celebration of Life" ceremony. We were surrounded by Brian's friends with love, support and care. About 30 teens came. As we entered the church, the lobby was filled with balloons. During the ceremony, Lisa opened the microphone and allowed all to come and share their feelings or stories. About half of the teens shared stories about how Brian had affected their lives or about things he had done. We laughed, we cried and we shared. At communion, Lisa stood beside the pastor and received hugs from all in attendance. At the end of the ceremony we each took balloons and went outside to say goodbye as we released Brian's spirit to soar in the heavens.
That evening Lisa invited all the teens to one of the parks where they hung out to have a cookout and just be with one another. The teens asked us to bring some of Brian's pictures and his small urn and to create an altar. What a comforting experience to watch them as the evening progressed. They would congregate around the altar, read or write in the memory book, look at the photos and talk. Sometimes the conversation would be somber and other times full of laughter and joking. Each created their own time, space and way to say their farewells to Brian and to support Lisa.
The most horrible experience one could imagine.., helping a mother have the courage to say goodbye to her only son ... was overshadowed with the promise of deep love and concern shown to us by those teens.
Erma Cooke is a neo-natal nurse in Baltimore MD and long-time F@W volunteer.