Witness to the Dying Process

reply to post by bcroper


My own culture - NZ Maori - have a perspective/understanding of something similar to what perhaps you are speaking about.

We call it a 'Taurahere' (pronounced Toe-rah-here-rear).
A simple translation of that word is 'Binding Rope'. Though of course the depth of it is far more robust.
In essence it is a connection formed with a person/place on a level of spirit.

Taurahere are I guess also similar to other cultures concepts of what they may refer to as 'soul ties' or 'soul links'.

Taurahere exist within family members...for instance how a parent may instinctively know whenever their child is hurt, in danger etc. Close friends etc. That bind between people on a level well beyond the physical.

These binds/connections are of course not limited to time or location...they can exist across time and across space. Taurahere are also seen by my people are existing between ancestors long since passed away before we were ever born.


Another essence of Taurahere is the connection that is formed during specific events. Events of extreme trauma, sadness, happiness...those times which just rock our very souls.
My understanding of the teachings I've received about my cultures concept of that is that when those events happen in some way its almost as if your spirit is temporarily distrupted...in some essences 'blown out' of your body.

I guess a way of describing it is as like an Electro-magnetic Pulse wave of sorts that just radiates outward before constricting back again.

The thing with that is that is - by my/our understanding - is that while the wave, flux, pulse, whatever and however you wish to view it expands out it also touches upon and even on some levels merges with other waves/fluxes/pulses/whatever.

It was relatively common for our Warriors of old to form Taurahere with those they had slain in battle. There are stories of those Warriors even changing persona, taking on the mannerisms and quirks, memories etc of those they had slain...even though they may not have known that person or anything about how they were/acted/lived.

By our own cultural understanding as they person was slain, the *slayer* by way of that *spiritual shift/expansion and retraction* could sometimes pull a bit of the slain warrior back into their own self.


...well...thats sorta what I've been taught about my own culture anyway...don't know if that is comparable to your own experiences...


Peace.

reply to post by alien


From personal experiance, I believe your people to be correct. I don't know anybody that saw action and came back the same. The thing about people picking up manurisums they did not have before, I always thought that was a symptom of PTSD. I picked up a few.

I have never really heard anything like that though. I am glad you shared that with us. That is somthing I will be thinking about a lot the next few days.

[edit on 6-3-2009 by bcroper]

Would like to add / share.

First, thanks Whisper. This thread is really what I need right now. And thanks to all the others. Whose responses selflessly shared their heartfelt experiences.

My father recently passed and exhibited similar traits to what many others have already mentioned. ( Out stretched arms, seeing / speaking to others in room that were not visible, and a final, brief improvement before he died.) There was a sense of serene calmness and subtle joy. (He was laughing and joking the day before he passed.) In the end, he was surrounded by the warmth and love of his entire family.

At his funeral (military with full honors) the chaplain asked if anyone would like to speak. As the only son, I felt compelled to do so. ( Although I had nothing planned / prepared.) Then I recalled something which seems to sum up his life and view on life.

"We are born crying in a room full of laughing people. If we have lived our life to its fullest, it seems fitting that we should die laughing in a room full crying people."

He always had a sense of humor until the very end. He was my hero and I miss him.

Regards...KK

[edit on 6-3-2009 by kinda kurious]

What an uplifting thread.

I have no experience to share. I do however have a terminally ill sister. And reading this thread has given me some peace, Thank you.

Thanks again to all those who have replied. I enjoy hearing the experiences from other cultures as well.

Merigold, I wish peace and healing to both you and your sister. My best wishes to you as you move through this difficult time.

Sometimes it's not a process at all - at least not that our minds can comprehend. Proving once again we know so little about time, space, and what happens during death, it's process, and afterwards.

Last week I found myself part of police car chase. Beautiful morning, not a car in sight on winding road that has always been so peaceful for me. Suddenly, a minivan screams past me going at least 65 (I was going 40/45), almost taking off my door on this two lane road. I could sense the anger coming from this vehicle, my first thought being "what did I do." My second being, "I'm calling the PoPo on this lunatic." I looked in the rearview and saw the police approaching behind me.

It was at this point, time began to slow down for me signifcantly. So much happened in such a short amount of time, it doesn't seem possible. I even trace the route back later and don't get it.

I saw the minivan pass a car up ahead of me, on a curve and slam headon into another car. It was a violent crash. Luckily, the victim was driving a Mercedes and will be okay. The driver of the minivan was killed. So often it is the victim in these cases. But still, someone lost their life.

And for some, death isn't is a process - or is it? Time slowed tremendously for me, probably due to natural bodily chemicals. At the same time, we must admit our understanding of 'reality' and transition is far from complete.

I've just been pondering these ideas. :;nervous laughter:: I think I might have a lil PTSD from witnessing such a violent crash. Thanks for reading!


Edit to add: Link to story w/video: www.theindychannel.com...

[edit on 4/25/2010 by Whisper67]

My only younger sister would have been 42 now but passed away on her 21st birthday. She was born with acute spina-bifida, having many of the related dissabilities associated.

First off, dont feel sympathy, she would in her words have " kicked your ass" for thinking she was any less able or worthy of more sympathy than anyone else.

Her kidneys failed when she was 17 so diallisis every second day in hospital was then also a part of her life. From aged 19 things seemed to deteriorate eventually leading to her spending more and more time in hospital.

She often told me that she wished she could sing but because of her shunt behind her ear her singing sounded like, in her words " One long drawn out note with a stop for a breath". We used to fall on the floor laughing at some of her descriptions of herself, her abilities and her things that made her unique.

3 months before her 21st birthday she decided she was having a party in a local night-club, she would hire it all for the night, including the band. Invites to 300 people were to go out. ( I laughed at her delibrately nominating names as to who was not getting an invite !) and plans were put in full swing.

3 weeks before the party things suddenly went downhill. The docs suspected a small stroke and yet again we were spending time in hospital with tests and needles and...well most of you will know the routine.

She insisted the party plans went ahead and in truth it gave all of us hope and a target to aim for.

A week before the party she asked me to stay back when her other visitors were leaving, of course I did and I took my orders in quiet with no one but me and her in the room.

I was given a letter with precise orders to carry out during the party, not to be opened till the morning of her birthday. Any questions from me were met with a gentle shhhhhhh, just listen and do. Trying to lighten the situation I told her I wasnt her slave and she could carry out her demands herself. We both laughed, hugged and I new there and then that time was short. She asked me to bring her her favourite magazine in the morning and on being told that it was a monthly, but I would try my best she said " Dont worry if you cant, it realy dosnt matter.

That night she went into a coma and for the next 5 days thats the way it stayed. The docs didnt give much hope not because of a specific problem, but because of all the physical dissabilities together. She was tired, I could see that. Over those 5 days and nights I could not come to a decision regarding the party. Invitations had been out for a while and everything had been paid for. I now know my lack of decision was based on not wanting to accept she wouldnt be here, I mean everyone that plans a 21st attends their 21st ! yea?

The day before the party, the Thursday, as we were getting ready to leave to go to hospital, the nurse called. We were to hurry as time was short. On arrival at her side room we were asked to wait outside for a few minutes and at that moment I opened the letter, it said.

I guess theres a chance that Im gone when you read this and if so I have one request. The party goes ahead. Supposing you dont tell anyone Ive gone, it goes ahead. I would wish though, that you tell them to celebrate me like its the last party in time, get them all drunk if their tablets and pills will allow it ( A high percentage of her friends were also dissabled), give out condoms if you want, but I need to know they remember me as I would like to be and not as I have been for these years in hospital.

My mind had been made up for me and although it took a bit of persuassion to get other family members on board, our area was going to be rocked by a party fit for hollywood.

On entering the room i could see all the many tubes, machines and especially the dialasis machine were gone. I whispered to the nurse how is she pain-wise. She replied that she is not in pain and with a smile said " As a matter of fact she has been singing, humming on and off all night, such a beautifull voice. I smiled and put a hand on her shoulder saying "Thanks".

It was going to be a long day so we took turns at going for a walk to stretch our legs. (Me, our father and her favourite cousin) The nurse would come in and check her pulse and breathing every half our or so, and at 4.00pm she said she would like us to leave the room for a few minutes till they refreshed her nightdress. We sat outside the window to the room and listened to the 2 nurses talk to her as they worked. Their respect was awesome, and as one nurse said " I was telling your brother how good your singing was" she began to hum eidelvise, It was beautifull, pitch perfect and had all three of us in tears.

When the nurses came back out I explained that she had always wanted to, but could never sing like that. She said thats because the shunt behind her ear was not working now. But I knew differently She died at 1 am on the morning of her birthday.

The next night 300 people had the party of their lives celebrating the life of my sister, sorry 301, because I know she was there as well.

Thanks for the OP, and for letting me ramble on a bit. I need to go look at a letter I keep safe.


respects



[edit on 25-4-2010 by captiva]

[edit on 25-4-2010 by captiva]

An interesting talk on the subject is Dr Peter Fenwick - The Art Of Dying.
It's a C2C interview on you tube by theduderinok in 12 parts.


I have had some experiences while buddying in an HIV ward, so I can relate to a lot of what is being said. Also some personal experiences which are similar too.

A big to everyone who has shared their personal stories.

S&F OP.

What a uplifting thread. I have been close to tears reading a few of these stories. Just thought I would acknowledge everybodies stories by giving one of my own. Although I was not there when this happened my Dad has told me on many occasions the details of this story, so here goes I'll pass them on to you:

My Grandfather had been seriously ill for some time. He had suffered many strokes and in the end he was bed bound. We knew he was deteriorating for weeks and one night my Dad got the dreaded phone call that he should go to the hospital as "there was not long left". I was away at the time so I could not go there but my Dad was there with him while he was unconscious. He was unconscious for about three hours while my Dad was there. He finally came around but still had his eyes closed, he was smiling and waving. My dad thinks he was waving goodbye but I feel that he was waving at something else, maybe my great grandfather. Anyway, regardless to what he was waving at I still feel that things like this happen to show us that there is something after death.

I was a witness to the dying process but the death was short termed. The light was over rated and a diversion to the real happiness that is there, even though I can not be certain cause I am not dead, yet. Either way the light is obviously only the beggining and it took me a bit to get past that part. Either way the truth is not real here compared to there which is why it is unknown and off topic to the wonder. Either way thought and movement eventually collide, cause gee golly I would not want to lose who I am just because of death, that would be a unfair process, we should learn to the truth and what is and not a sudden I am angel thing.

My opinion only and completely off topic if I could I would be there to save you if I could, cause I do care even though I have no power here.

Thank you to everyone sharing their experiences. It makes the inevitable a bit less daunting. This isn't completely my own personal experience, but I feel it is relevant to this thread.

When I was about four or five years old I was staying with my grandparents for the weekend. We spent the night watching an Elvis documentary with me playing on the floor like infants do. My cousin, who lived there, was playing his guitar.
That night my grandmother put us to bed, and she gave me a hug I'll never forget. I can't describe it, but hugs generally don't stick in my mind. This one, for whatever reason, was different.
I slept like a log through the night, and when I woke up the house was alive with voices. I went downstairs to find various relatives in the livingroom, and my parents in the kitchen. I was not supposed to see them for another day, so I wondered why they had came for me so early. They told me that my grandmother had died during the night, and although I was only young, I knew exactly what they meant.

She had died suddenly in the bathroom of a heart attack at 54 that no one saw coming. My cousin, some years older than me, described hearing a thud coming from the bathroom, then he himself heard a faint singing that sounded like a choir in a large hall. The thud was when she fell against the door, and it took paramedics quite some effort to open it because she was right up next to it. I slept through all of this, despite being in the neighbouring room.

Now, while my parents were in their own house this night/early hours of the morning, my mother told me she had heard the doorbell ring. She went down to see who it was. She described to me that my grandmother was standing there, saying to her that she was just passing and wanted to see our house. (We have travelled around a bit due to my fathers job, so have had various houses over the years.) My mother, wondering why her own mother was at the door at that time of the morning, invited her inside for a cup of tea, and said for her to wait while she woke my father up. She started to go upstairs, and as she turned around to ask my gran something, my gran was gone.
Next thing my mother knew, she was being woken by the police at the door. I truly believe that my gran came to visit my mum in the astral plane before she made her journey into the light, and it's something that gives us both a great deal of comfort, as well as the hug she gave me.

I have also worked in a care home and have witnessed people who are dying reaching out, smiling at precise points in the ceiling and such. It's what affirms my belief that we do go on in another form.

]"Her eyes were clearly focused to an area to the right of her bed as if she was actually seeing a group of people that I could not see.'[

so beautiful

Im an RN though not working anymore... I worked for over a decade in one of the largest trauma hospitals in the midwest. I was an ER nurse with emergency medicine specialty.... and death isnt sweet nor is it beautiful in my experience. Maybe some deaths are... but I can say that I cant recall one Id call beautiful. Not to be a downer, but thats just my experience. Nothing wonderful about a kid coming in from a wreck, being beaten by his parents or shot up while waiting on the bus. Nothing beautiful about dying folks screaming and grasping at you damned near pulling your clothes off. Nothing great about the elderly who come in alone and die alone.The process is very difficult for some.. and apparently from your stories an ER isnt the place to witness any beauty in death. I got burnt out after a decade , go figure.

WHat I witnessed were mainly people fighting to live. Sure, there were a few peaceful deaths, mainly the elderly, but most fight. Ive heard the light and about things coming for them from the dying, sometimes they were scared and sometimes more fascinated than "peaceful" Id say. Ive heard about relatives and angels and one guy even yelled about demons.. but none of them were beautiful. Mainly they were senseless unneeded deaths for the most part. A trauma hospital is where you get the bulk of life flights, gang violence, vehicle and etc kind of issues. The kids always fight when its a traumatic injury resulting in death. Seriously, you have a 10 yr old gangbanger there and youre trying to keep him alive.. and he asks if he is dying.. the last thing this kid hears on this earth and in the very last moments of coherent life is a lie. Sure, youre going to be fine... I lied a lot in my career. I figure I have dozens of pissed off ghosts waiting to kick my ass when my time comes.

My grandfather died recently. We all sat up all night while he was fed morphine by a hospice nurse. He raved for a while, yelled at me, then told me I was beautiful, then spoke about angels, then asked if he was going to hell concerning a few things that happened when he was in Korea I didnt need to hear about at that moment.. In the end he died in his morphine OD cocktail quietly. Mercy killing or euthanasia is alive and well.. and is done mainly for home deaths with hospice attendance. It wasnt my choice to do nor do I believe my crusty old battle hardened marine grandfather would have chosen to die like a dog being put to sleep.My mother heard a horrible sound and ran in there. must have been his last breath. Its a nasty sound... heard it plenty of times.. not beautiful. I got elected to go to the funeral home to cut some hair off of him for grandmothers locket.. which is filling up. Morbid... and no.. contrary to the family Im not USED to death so Im okay with going and cutting crap off of my dead beloved grandfather.. I can tell you strangers here it sucked. Yay.. thats my last vision of him.. cold, hard,naked, draped in a sheet..... and not prettied up for a funeral.

What Ive posted is reality about the dying.. and for those that believe in ghosts.. I am right there with you. SO MANY dont want to die. regardless of the family, white light or angels. SO many die screaming for their mates or children... or at them. I truly wish I had experiences where this beauty is you all speak of.. or this peacefulness.. unfortunately the reality for me is.. it just isnt so great for the majority. You all are very lucky... VERY.


Now, Im sorry if Ive offended or upset.. honestly.. but truth is truth. I signed up and read "deny ignorance"... well thats a hard dose of truth there. No one wants to recognize it as such but death is as scary, hard, and traumatic for most. Maybe working in hospice where theyre doped up and surrounded by loved ones would have been better.. people that die in an ER arent prepared or ready for death. That sort of "process of dying" is wholly unnatural and maybe thats why I never saw the beauty of it some of you describe.

any ER nurse here on this board who has worked at a trauma center can tell you.. it SUCKS to work there and takes a little of your life away.

Oh and since we're talking about death... suicides.. thats a subject thats curious. Ive handled several attempted suicides..the ones that lived. :They INVARIABLY thank you for saving their life. Ive never NEVER had one or heard of one who was pissed off he or she was saved. ( some of the elderly you save actually do curse you out or cry about being brought back though) Funny thing.. those who want to die really dont want to die! Ity doesnt matter if they have half of their face blown off.. they will beg you to save them and fight death tooth and nail. Those that really want to die accomplish it. I never saw them.

If you really want to piss someone off.. tell a cop death is beautiful. Theyre even more jaded than I am!

["She said "oh, I hear the most beautiful music." She said this delightfully and with a smile. At the time I was like umm....okay. And again, I did not negate her experience. I gently asked her to describe the music but, she ignored my request, closed her eyes, moved her fingers to a beat, and seemed to move her head as if listening to a beautiful melody."]

not that I think loved ones dying is good or beautiful but this particular experience she got to witness three or four days before, after all the last enemy to be conquered is death

Originally posted by Whisper67


And for some, death isn't is a process - or is it? Time slowed tremendously for me, probably due to natural bodily chemicals. At the same time, we must admit our understanding of 'reality' and transition is far from complete.

I've just been pondering these ideas. :;nervous laughter:: I think I might have a lil PTSD from witnessing such a violent crash. Thanks for reading!


Edit to add: Link to story w/video: www.theindychannel.com...

[edit on 4/25/2010 by Whisper67]

Yes, the slowing down.. you know it was like that for me when I first went to work. I guess we need to slow down to process it or something.. to comprehend these traumatic things. I do believe that "reality" is in the eye of the beholder. TIme as well.

One of my daughters was born with a terminal illness for which she had a transplant 2 yrs ago. She is just now 11 and living well. Time was weird for her as well. Before the transplant she was dying before our eyes.. literally. She sensed time different than we all did during that time.. about a month of waking up and wondering if Id find her alive or not. It was much slower for her. As you said, maybe chemistry or maybe something we simply dont understand yet. Medicine is miraculous these days.. now youd never know that she was dying not too long ago and never had a real childhood. SHe is doing great and minor complications with rejection recently that we can handle with med tweaking. The icky part is someones kid had to die for her to live. Life.. and death... is definitely strange and unique to the individual!

As far as ptsd.. wouldnt doubt it. Id be lying if I said I didnt have memories that didnt get to me or if I recall certain folks for whatever reason I become depressed. Youre **normal**.. we shouldnt become immune to reacting strongly when we witness a fellow human dying, dead or injured.

reply to post by Advantage


Advantage,

Wow...I mean, just...wow.

Thank you, so much, for sharing yourself and your experiences. Somehow, I think it may have been too much for too long. Maybe you needed to just 'tell it like it is'. I don't know why, but I really felt what you had to type. Thanks. Seriously.

Oh, and welcome!

reply to post by Whisper67


Whisper,

I would just like to say that you did the right thing and that your mom was so lucky to have you with her until the end.

May we all be so lucky.