Most recently, as a family, we have had some big changes. Things that need to be absorbed, honoured and reflected upon. Some shocking and some anticipated, some events are lifetime alterations and others, a blip on the radar.
Winter is beginning to exit, fade away, and the warmth of the sun on my face is a reminder there will be warm, sunny days ahead. Mother Nature will surely rear her head and show us winter goes out like a lion whether it is March or not. It is a time of green liquids and breaks in March, markers of spring. The Lenten journey is well underway, and Easter is on the horizon. Each year, these markers are visible along the road. Each year, we rotate through the various holidays and seasons. Markers that accumulate into years of living.
As I work with the aging, I am always assessing each client and ask myself, “I wonder where they have come from?” and “What could have been different, if only … ?” The reflections are always different and, most often, hold no answers. Our lives are just that — a culmination of memories. Lived moments, hours, days and years circling around the sun.
On the night the time changed, I happened to wake up and went to the bathroom. As I returned to my bed, I picked up my phone to see the time. (One of these days I will get a lighted clock for my room.) The time was 1:59 a.m. I looked at it and immediately pondered about the time change. Remembering how we are told the change happens at 2 a.m. precisely, I wondered, “What will happen?” I watched and I waited, looking at the phone.
I watched as the numbers on my phone went from 1:59 a.m. to 3 a.m. in the blink of an eye, literally. As I watched, I blinked and it changed, just like that. I had my answer. At precisely 2 a.m. on the appointed day, an hour was erased. As I sat on the side of my bed, in the dark, with nothing but the illumination from the face of my phone, I lost an hour of my life. Or did I?
As I work with the aging, the hours become redundant, and time is nothing more than something to pass and a gap in the day to fill. I sat with many people older than 90 this past week and they were all in different places emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally. One was up and chatting from her wheelchair, telling me about how she has been keeping watch, with limited vision, on her neighbour, who keeps escaping her bed. The other sat, chin in their hands, pondering how long before they could move on from this plain to the next. We have talked about it and, with a satisfied smile, they told me how they are done, ready to go, finished and hope death will come soon. Another was sharing a dance with me in the hall and walking briskly alongside me, telling me how they were returning from the exercise class.
As a family of one, in my own household there are days when I live the thoughts of these clients. Recently, I ran 21.1 kilometres, another day wished my time was up and then, another day, I felt like my vision was blurred while I watched the neighbours have more fun. We all have many journeys wrapped into one life. We all have choices of which track to follow. We all are the victims of another throwing the switch, and forcing us onto a different track. I often wonder if that one hour that was erased so easily by technology held euphoria or hell. Is that hour the same, just named as 3 a.m. instead of 2 a.m.? Or like the movie Inception (2010), where time at different levels is stretched beyond our simple human understanding?
So many spiritual questions, and as I work with the aging, and age myself, I ask these questions more deeply and with a clearer understanding that as time goes by, we see so differently as we gain experience and travel along the road of life.
Cynthia Breadner is a teacher, author, grief specialist and bereavement counsellor, a soul care worker and offers specialized care in spiritually integrated therapies. She lives and works in the Bradford West Gwillimbury area as a long-term care chaplain assisting with end-of-life care for client and family. She is the mother part of the #DanCynAdventures duo and practices fitness, health and wellness. Her book, In Stillness: Short Stories from a Life Well Lived, is a compilation of her work and is available from Nancy’s Nifty Nook and Health Food Store in downtown Bradford. She is available remotely by safe and secure video connections. If you have any questions, contact her today: [email protected], breakingstibah.com.
