“Death does not have to be treated as an enemy for you to delight in life"

Josephine “Jo” Stak, March 2020

“Death does not have to be treated as an enemy for you to delight in life"

Those are the words of Ram Dass—clinical psychologist, academic and spiritual author—who died in 2019. At my mother’s funeral service, my brother shared the richness that filled her life. And … we can also acknowledge the months that brought us here today.

Our mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease in 2013, and we accompanied her through the years of decline—and several mini-strokes—that followed. From being a fixture at this church’s twice-yearly rummage sale, where she helped my sister Debbie and me select outfits … to asking for “fashion shows” to see the purchases I made when she chose to stay home … to no longer mentioning them each spring and fall. From devouring lengthy biographies of her favorite celebrities, to flipping magazine pages, to sitting and gazing into the distance. From animated telephone chats, to hours of silence.

Since August 6, 1955, our dad has been at our mother's side. So much so, you almost never saw one without the other. When my sister-in-law Bernadette was pregnant with my nephew Sean, my parents picked their grandparent names: the Hungarian “Naj” for my father, and the Italian “Nonna” for my mother. On those rare occasions when our father would stop by my brother’s house without my mom, Sean, then a toddler, would point at him and exclaim, “Najanonna! Najanonna!” As if they were one person.

As active as our mother’s life was, by contrast the last couple of years were filled with quiet reflection, much hand holding, and lots of spoonfuls of ice cream. I learned more about the practice of holding space than I have in my hundreds of hours of yoga and meditation training. Through it all, we watched my father abide. There will always be a piece of him at Watrous Nursing Home--literally. For years his footsteps will mark the well-worn path he took from his parking spot to the front door … and all because he didn’t realize the lot had just been seal coated.

There’s so much more I could say, but I’d like to leave you with the opportunity to acknowledge both the beauty of life, as well as the lessons in dying. Here is one final message from Ram Dass. These are words that my mother emulated, unknowingly, throughout her final months:

“I don’t wish you the stroke, but I wish you the grace from the stroke.”

The grace within me salutes the same within you.