Nobody ever sent the dying

on their way with more fanfare than my mama's family. Aunt Benonia has

been dying again now for about two weeks. It's her fourth time, I think...

Lynda, my sister, took her

keyboard to the foot of the hospital bed at efforts number two and three

and sung her back to this side both times.

Literally.

I can't recall the details

surrounding her first dying, but I'm sure they were profound, joyful,

and so much fun that Aunt Benonia just couldn't leave.

Wondering how we do it? First,

there has to be forewarning. Something like a doctor saying, "He/she

is dying. Organs are shutting down. It's a matter of hours or days at

the most."

Now nobody, to my knowledge,

ever set out to prove any doctor wrong. We have great respect for those

health professionals we choose to help us care for the bodies in which

we live while residing on this side of eternity.

What we do when told a dying

is about to come down is gather round the one who is getting ready to

pass over. Most members of my family believe the other side is going to

be awesome. There's not a whole lot of fear among us about death and what

follows after. And as you will soon understand, the dying is, in many

instances, something we all actually enjoy.

For example, with Aunt Benonia's

last dying episode, Aunt June came up from Florida. That was several months

ago and Aunt June is staying until the end.

With the onset of this dying

warning Cousin Maxine came to town. She's here indefinitely now, too.

When Aunt Benonia was readmitted

to the hospital a couple of weeks ago, the family was called. They rallied.

The dying one has not been alone for a moment. Most of the time there

are two to four family members in the room with her. The main waiting

room is crawling with more family, and the parking lot ain't void either.

The dying's favorite food is

brought to the bedside. His or her favorite songs are sung (softly, of

course so as not to disturb others down the hall).

Jokes are told. Gossip is shared.

Memories are resurrected. All this in the presence of the dying one. It

is so much fun that the one who lays there dying just can't leave. They

have "come out of it" more times than I can begin to count.

Remember, I have a huge family, hundreds of us, counting just all the

aunts, uncles, first and second cousins.

Of course, eventually it's

for real... When the dying one finally has absolutely no strength left,

when the final breath is drawn, when all hands have released their grasp,

the crying commences.

We cry well, too. Just as well

as we laugh. But not for long. Just a few hours, two or three days at

the most. And we all know without a doubt that we are crying for ourselves

because the dying ritual/celebration is over once more.

The loved one who finally pulled

off his or her exit is sorely missed. No doubt about that. Yet there is

some degree of wonder on this side, and a tad of excitement as we think

about our own passing and the ultimate family celebration that awaits

us.

Of course, most of us hope

for some degree of warning. The sudden deaths are hardest. The automobile

accidents, drownings, fatal heart attacks that hit without prior warning.

Oh, yeah, they happen too. Still, we celebrate.

Maybe the celebration doesn't

get to be as long and drawn out. And there may be some degree of regret

to contend with cause that's how it is when we think we have all the time

in this world, and learn too late that we don't.

I know each and every family

has their own way/s of dealing and coping with the passing of their loved

ones, and I know only too well how painful it can be. Never would I attempt

to push my family rituals on to another and I don't mean to be disrespectful

to anyone.

I suppose I am just sharing

my frustrations this week because present circumstances prevent me from

being there in person to participate in Aunt Benonia's present dying celebration.

Ah, but it's only miles, and

the heart that loves recognizes no barrier, not even death.