Weavings is a monthly reflection that is the collective effort of the Wheaton Franciscan Covenant Companions and Sisters to provide spiritual nourishment that helps us feel God’s presence in daily living and invite an openness to God.
WAVES
by Dave Pfeifer, Covenant Companion
My mom died of COVID in 2020 after a long decline due to dementia. I received a call from the hospice nurse early in the morning letting me know that her death was imminent. It came as shock because it had seemed like she had been rallying up to that point. I rushed to my parents’ home where I met my sister and we went in to be with Mom. Despite the risk of contracting COVID, my sister and I held her hands until she passed on. Until that moment, I had never before been present at the passing of a human life. It was one of the most profound experiences of my life.
For a whole host of reasons, it was not until July of this year that my family was ready and able to say our final goodbyes to Mom. It fell to me to organize the memory service. With the indispensable support and assistance of Joanne and Rachel, we assembled old photos, found versions of Mom’s favorite hymns and planned the service. When the day came, we gathered for a moment of shared memories, a complex but cathartic mix of laughter and tears, and a time to appreciate and give thanks for all the ways Mom had touched each of our lives.
It was incredibly healing to look back at the photos of Mom’s life; to reaffirm her intense aliveness, after experiencing the end of her life as dementia progressively stripped her of her ability to communicate, care for herself, and interact with the people she loved. Here is a sampling of some of my favorites:
Looking at the pictures now, I am struck by her eyes and how vibrant she is in the photos.
Thinking about Mom, her life, her death, I feel compelled to try to make some kind of sense of it all; to sit with the extraordinary miracle of human life, the great mystery of our mortality and how those relate to a loving, compassionate Creator. The idea that presents itself gives me some reassurance.
Perhaps, God is like the ocean: eternal, constant; and each of us is like a wave on the surface of the ocean of God: a unique, beautiful, ephemeral manifestation of the love of God in a specific space and time. We form, we grow, we rush forward, then we recede back into the ocean of God from which we came and to which we return. We are always and forever inextricably connected to the ocean of God and through God to each and every other human life that has been, exists now, or ever will exist. This sense of unbreakable connectedness to Mom and her life gives me comfort.
I miss you, Mom. I miss your sense of humor, your curiosity, your joy, and the opportunity to share my life with you. But I am also aware of your ongoing presence in my life, and I am grateful.
