The Stories (2/6)
Slide 2 of 6
Reverend Stella Ruiz, an ordained minister and bereavement coordinator for Hospice, writes, “I have listened to many family members share how they have experienced the presence of their loved one. After a loved one dies, many family members yearn for just a touch, a scent, a sign, to know their loved one is alright: the soft smell of the loved one’s perfume, physically feeling the loved one’s arms around the family member, or lights turned off without any reason. The experiences are precious and unique, but can also be painful after the special moment has ended.”
Several years ago, I met a remarkable woman in a nursing home. In her 80s, Cora loved reminiscing about her life during World War II, the Depression, and the rebuilding of the United States.
Cora shared with me that her son, Buddy, loved his dog. They often played in the backyard, cavorting around the perimeter of the yard, jumping over a tree stump, and playing peek-a-boo under the sheets drying on the clothesline.
Cora’s precious Buddy died in the flu epidemic of 1918. She grieved long and hard. Then one day she heard the dog barking. She looked in the backyard and saw something that had not happened since Buddy became ill: The dog cavorted around the perimeter of the yard, jumped over the tree stump, then played peek-a-boo under the sheets drying on the clothesline. Cora knew the dog was playing with her invisible son, and a piece of her fractured heart began to heal.
But there is an argument…
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