Walking on Sacred Ground website was moved to this updated website, as the inspirational stories, prayers and dedication to my father wanted to be preserved. –Marygrace
What is “Walking on Sacred Ground”?
Marygrace and her father, Carmen DiPipi
I have started this website to be a place where you can find encouragement, resources and discussion on end of life care. In addition to that, it is a sharing space to tell your story, to remember a special someone, or to help others along the way. My name is Marygrace Lomboy, and I’m a Nurse Practitioner and I work both in hospice home care and in an inpatient hospice unit. I am dedicating this page to my dear father, Carmen DiPipi, who passed away March 18, 2012. He was my greatest teacher of love, compassion and courage. I have worked in the hospice field since 2000, and I have to admit that prior to the experience of my Dad passing away—I really didn’t understand the depth of beauty that is possible at the end of a person’s life.
The experience transformed my family and also my practice. The moments leading up to his passing were incredibly intense—but filled with so much love and opportunity for sharing. It brought our family together to a place we had never been before. It was a truly sacred time for all of us, and a time that will be marked in my memory forever. I have been privileged to witness so many beautiful moments of love at the end of a person’s life. I was once told by an acquaintance just how sad hospice is and how is it that I can work in such incredibly depressing conditions. I don’t see it as that at all… I see it as a place of great light—my patients and their families are my teachers. It’s about living life and what is most important. It’s about living each moment and making every day count. My patients have no agendas, just the day to day realty.
I feel like I’m walking on sacred ground each and every time I care for my patients and their families. So many miracles happen along the way. Anyone who has gone through this with a person that they have loved most likely has a story to tell. This space is a forum to share your thoughts and stories to those who may be going through a difficult time now. It is also a place to celebrate the memory of a loved one. It is my wish that we share our words to every patient, caregiver and family member who are going through challenging times—to encourage, to give hope, and to send love their way.
Special Prayer from a Friend
This is a special prayer that my friend, Coleen Kayden gave me. I loved it so much—it really speaks to the love and peace that is available to all of us…
“Today may there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you
May you be confident knowing you are a child of God
Let this presence settle into you bones, and allow you soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love
It is there for each and every one of us”
–St. Therese of Lisieux
The Valentine
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I was seeing a patient for the first time and was having trouble finding his house, as my GPS was leading me astray. When I finally wound up in his front yard, I couldn’t believe what I saw…a giant heart stone hanging from an old oak tree. The heart stone was really so unexpected—you see, I had been collecting tiny versions of this beautiful rock for years. I have quite a collection of heart stones that I’ve collected from the beaches of Cape May. Each time I’m there, I look for the perfect heart rock to add to my collection. So this one was really overwhelming…I had to find out more about where it came from.
I made my way in to see the patient and his wife. He was a sweet retired farmer with end stage cancer and his wife was lovingly caring for him. I told him about my heart rock collection and asked him about his heart rock in the front yard. He smiled and said that a few years ago; he was out in his field with his tractor, digging up the soil to get ready for the planting season. He hit something really hard, almost knocking him off of his tractor. When he uncovered it, it was the tip of a really big rock—he continued to dig and found it was this incredible rock was in the shape of a perfect heart. He later explained that this wasn’t just any ordinary day—it was February 14th. He went into the kitchen where his wife was standing and said “God just sent us a valentine…” They later found the perfect spot for it for all to enjoy. The next time I went to see this special patient; I brought him one of my heart rocks from my collection. At subsequent visits, I always saw it right there on his bedside next to him along with his prayer books and Bible.
It’s discovering the little pieces of love that patients are willing to share that lift the spirit.
Little Things with Great Love
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I was asked to visit a recent widow who was in her late 80’s and was receiving hospice care for end stage lung cancer. Last month, she and her husband had just celebrated their wedding anniversary and one week later, he passed away in his sleep. She said she missed him so much, pointing to his empty chair that he used to sit on beside her everyday.
She was filled with sadness and anxiety about how she was still trying to live on her own with hired caregivers. Her sadness was palpable. I asked her about her marriage and how they made it work for 65 years. She told me that it always wasn’t perfect, but they continued to work at it through the years. They raised 5 children and had 14 grandchildren and God was the center of their lives. She said what is really most important is that they truly took care of each other. Her husband was also very frail and had severe cardiac and back issues.
She was on oxygen to help with breathing and had very limited capacity to care for herself. She would sleep every night in the recliner because it was easier for her to breath sitting up and he would sleep in the next room in their bed. She said that she always complained of being cold and in the middle of the night her feet would turn ice cold. She told me that every night her husband would wake up about 2:30 in the morning, shuffle into the TV room with his cane and a flash light where she was sleeping, and make sure that she still had her socks on her feet and the blankets were wrapped around her. If her socks fell off, he would pull up a stool and slowly put them back on her feet while she was sleeping. He would kiss her on the cheek then shuffle back into his bed.
She got a tear in her eye and said “He took such good care of me”…
That’s love—better than any diamonds, flowers or promises—it’s caring in action. So simple, so small, but true caring with great love.
I recently joined a weekly prayer group and the reading for today, September 27th is Psalm 23. Tomorrow is the launch of this website dedicated to my dear father. This special reading, Psalm 23 was the reading at my Dad’s one year anniversary Mass of his death. I can’t help but think my dad is with me as I am here writing this post and also tomorrow as this website is shared with all…
PSALM 23
The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall lack.
In green pastures you let me graze; to safe waters you lead me; you restore my strength;
You guide me along the right path for the sake of your name.
Even when I walk through a dark valley,
I fear no harm for you are at my side; your rod and staff give me courage.
You set a table before me as my enemies watch;
You anoint me head with oil; my cup overflows,
Only goodness and love will pursue me all the days of my life;
I will dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come.
Finding the Sacred in Everyday Life
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
“Earth is crammed with heaven,
And every bush is aflame with God
But only those who see, take off their shoes
The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries.”
–Elizabeth Browning
We are a plugged in, distracted society. My day is filled with driving around the county to see my patients, answering my cell phone, listening to my GPS telling me where to turn next, text messaging, meeting deadlines, caring for my family and trying to fit in time to walk the dog. I sometimes struggle with shifting from all of the consuming sensory overload to being centered prior to entering a patient’s home. The last thing a patient needs is to have someone frazzled and feeling hurried taking care of them. What puts things in perspective is to sit at the bedside of a dying patient. The quietness fills my heart. It makes me pause and realize how fragile life really is. It is then that I am truly present. The love that is in the room between family members, the faith that they cling on to, I found the sacred…
What kinds of things make you pause and see the sacred? I consciously try to “ground” myself and quiet what is going on inside my head a few times a day. I believe, that really makes me slow down a bit and see more opportunities to experience the sacred around me. Seeing an incredible sunset, hearing the birds chirping or witnessing a family working so hard together to keep their dying loved one comfortable. I truly feel the presence of God during those times.
Taking a time—out in our busyness during the day helps us to be more present, more focused on things that are happening around us. Maybe it’s a short prayer, some deep breaths, or a quick body stretch to shift our attention to the present. Becoming more “mindful” in our day helps to center us and also significantly reduce stress. Dr. Goldstein has published the article “Sacred Moments: Implications on Well-Being and Stress” in the Journal of Clinical Psychology. His study found that integrating mindful principles into daily life for just 5 minutes a day over 3 weeks resulted in significant reductions in stress and significant increases in life satisfaction and positive relations with others.
Here are some tips on to becoming more “mindful” and present during your days, and hopefully finding the sacred along the way…
Unplug—Turn off your computer, silence your cell phones, and shut off the TV for a specific time during your day. Take a few days break from watching the news—I find myself getting anxious and feeling uneasy with all the negative reporting.
Get enough sleep—This is my biggest challenge, but on weekends—I nap! It feels so good and recharges me. A nap is very nurturing, allow yourself that time to take one or two during the week.
Each day spend sometime outside in nature—Take a walk, sit outside under a tree, feel the earth beneath your feet. It’s God’s creation out there just waiting for us to take it all in. Enjoy…
Pray for others. When I pray for others, there is such a peace that I feel in my heart.
Make a meal special with your family or friends. Even if it’s pizza night, gather together, say a prayer in thanksgiving, and shed some candlelight on the meal to make it extra special!
Let go of the work week as best as you can. Thoughts keep popping into my head about work, patients I’ve seen, and wondering how they are doing. I take a time out and say a prayer giving all of my worries up to God. Most things are beyond our control, so we just need to hand them over…I know, it’s easier said than done!
Give gratitude. An appreciation of what is around me makes me more present and in the moment. Some actually keep a gratitude journal, which is a great way to express what you are feeling gratitude for.
Laugh! I try not to take myself too seriously…some of the most intense times with patients, someone in the room will say something to break the ice and make all of us just laugh, including the patient. When that happens, it lightens the room! It makes what is so challenging a bit easier to handle when spirits are lighter.
Breathe. At times, I feel like I’m holding my breath when things get so crazy busy! Take a time out and just breathe it in and out. There is a mediation practice called Tonglen—which is described as “breathing in the thing that is causing suffering and breathing out the antidote—the thing that you hope will alleviate suffering.” Just breathe…
There is a Season
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
On this crisp autumn day in October, the leaves on the trees are turning beautiful shades of orange, red and yellow and I’m reminded of the seasons of our own lives.
Life keeps moving…seconds quickly go to minutes, then hours, to days, then weeks to months. The months then evolve into the seasons of our lives…
Some of the most quoted words of the Bible are from the Book of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3, verse 1-8:
To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal …
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance …
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Upon reflecting this Bible verse, some of our life’s seasons are joyful and productive, where as other seasons may be sad and painful.
Those seasons of my life were I struggled the most, I can now reflect back and see that it was a time of great growth and learning. Each experience—whether it was a pleasant or incredibly challenging or sad—offered it’s own opportunity for me to transition into a truer and wiser part of myself. Through the most difficult of times, I had to reach deep down inside and really see what I was made of. What sustains me and what are the things that will lead me to a path to let go of the old and embrace the new.
Life is a continuous flow and nothing is static for very long. Unless we are willing to let go of the past—we cannot let go and grow in the present. Every season of life has a hidden gift—even if at the time we are in the transition, we may not recognize it.
As with the seasons of nature, life transitions cannot be rushed. They need to flow in through us and it takes time to accept and flow with it.
Here are some tips on dealing with the changing of life’s seasons:
Don’t rush into anything. Give yourself some adequate space and time for reflection and to be quiet. Truly feel the experience and listen to the little voice inside your head. It’s there for a reason…
Accept each day as it comes. At times, you may need to break down each hour or minute of each day to just get by. Allow yourself the grace to do that if needed.
Pray or meditate each day. This helps to center yourself and stabilizes the forces around you.
Keep a daily journal. Writing your thoughts, fears, hopes and dreams may be very cathartic and healing. It may also gives you the opportunity to see where you have been in the past and how you are growing in the changing seasons.
Reach out to friends, family, support groups or a counselor. Seek out positive people to be with who will lift you up and support you.
Take care of your health. Get enough sleep, take time to be outside to experience nature and the seasons.
Trust that God is there to hold your hand through the “eye of the storm,” and that His loving divine presence will be there for you to always lean on.
A New Day
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
His body is physically broken…
His spirit is intact, his mind is clear and he waits patiently for what will unfold.
Almost 100 years old, skin fragile and bruised, open wounds wrapped tightly with bright white gauze, his hands are shaking and no longer able to feed himself.
He lies quietly in his bed, listening to the sounds of Mozart while the beep beep beep goes off in the room next to him. He is not bothered by the onerous sound.
When I ask him if I can do anything for him, he answers in a quiet weak voice, “all of my needs are well satisfied,” and thanks me.
He tells me of a time when he grew up on a farm, milked cows and went to a one room school house. He smiles gently and remembers…He is too weak to tell me all that is on his mind and all of the memories.
I hold his hand and time stands still.
He is bed-bound, unable to even turn himself in bed, but he tells me that the day is always new…
He has hope, and looks forward to what the day will bring. He has so much appreciation to those who are caring for him. He tells me that every day is a gift, no matter where you are.
I feel an incredible sense of peace and gratitude when I am sitting at the bedside of this gentle man. He is quiet, he is listening, and he looks forward to a new day.
A Fragile Life
We live our lives in fast forward with a thousand distractions each hour. Life is so very fragile and it can turn unexpectedly in a moment’s notice. As I continue my work in hospice, I am surrounded by patients that have received a terminal prognosis and enter this unknown territory of preparing for their own death. It is there they find moments that they are forced to confront their deepest fears, doubts, deep attachments and their own vulnerabilities.
Every day, I’m in awe of the patients that I take care of. Somehow, they find a way to face death with so much courage and fortitude. They somehow find the inner strength to continue to live while they are dying. Their lives are different—there is an honesty where walls come down with a renewed sense of what really matters. The ego is so much smaller…
When a person has an awareness that death is soon, many will search for the meaning of their lives, a reexamination of what their life was about and what legacy they will leave behind. Some will see death as an end to a life of conflict with others—and “tidy up” life, cleaning up the loose ends. Regardless of a person’s religious orientation, there is the true mystery of existence and a deep sense of the infinite. There is a search for the immortal. As I continue to see my patients week after week, I see a softness that emerges. An inner struggle begins to change and a subtle detachment unfolds. This is when many opportunities for forgiveness, deepening faith, love and an incredible sense of gratitude in the simple experiences of life ensues. This is the place where miracles happen…
Dying is not only a medical event that will happen to us all—for many, it is also a spiritual event and a transformation. The surface distractions of daily life are muted resulting in a greater sense of peace, acceptance and depth.
Hanging on by a String
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
This Valentine’s Day, I wanted to share with you a story of love. As we celebrate the holiday with all of the cards, flowers, chocolates, I think I stumbled upon the greatest gift of all.
I was asked to see an elderly female with advanced Alzheimer’s disease, who lived with her husband of 65 years. They both were up in their 90’s in age but still managed to live independently in the same sweet little cottage they raised their 3 daughters in. I drove up to the house and was greeted by the patient’s husband who was a sturdy compact man who was extremely hard of hearing. He led me into the bedroom where his wife was lying in bed, dosing in and out of sleep. She was surrounded by family and friends, but the patient was unaware of anyone in the room. The patient’s husband explained that she had a very restless night, and he had trouble keeping her from falling out of bed. He stayed up all night just watching her to prevent her from getting injured. He looked exhausted.
After careful review of medications with some recommended adjustments and also some hired help for the upcoming nights, the patient’s husband and I went into the kitchen to get the plan in place. I asked him a few questions on how long he had been caring for his wife. He stated it had been 10 years since she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, but she had declined rapidly over the past 3 years. He said the most difficult time was always at night. When I asked what he meant, he said that his wife always would try to wander when he would go to sleep. He was extremely hard of hearing and would not hear her get up in the middle of the night. One time he found her in her nightgown on the front porch heading out into the street. After that episode, he said he found a way to prevent that from happening. In the evening hours, he and his wife would rest in recliners next to each other and watch TV until they would most likely fall asleep. He started to tie a small piece of yarn on her leg and attach it to his leg when they would settle into their recliner each night. If she attempted to wander, the yarn that attached them together would wake him up and he would be able to stop her from wandering. They literally were bound to each other out of necessity but greater than that, incredible love. I guess I looked awestruck when he was explaining this to me, and he said “you see, I took my vows very seriously 65 years ago. In good times and in bad, she is my bride, and I will always love and cherish her. That yarn enabled us to still stay together for the past 3 years without her getting hurt, and every day with her was a gift.”
In looking back at this story, love is a gift that sometimes does hang on by a string—literally, in some cases as this. But what a gift it is.
Pause
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I recently visited friends in Florida and went for a walk on the beach before sunrise. As the sun was appearing, I came across an assembly of over 100 people. They were a very large support group for those recovering from addictions to drugs and alcohol. The leader saw me walking, was very friendly and we chatted for a bit. Then she actually invited me to sit in on the meeting. I was taken back by her willingness to allow me to join them on this beautiful morning, and was humbled by her invitation. Each meeting starts out with a theme and today’s theme was about “pause.” Many of the participants gave their stories about getting cut off while driving, confrontations with coworkers, former days of getting provoked and fighting, etc…and now how they have incorporated hitting the “pause” button in their lives. One person spoke about a recent time when he was enjoying a quiet afternoon paddle boarding in the ocean when two kids on jet skies purposely turned around to spray him with water. His initial reaction was to go after them and “knock some sense in to them,” but instead, he paused. He took in some deep breaths and then let it pass. By hitting our pause button, it allows us to take a breath before we react. The definition of the word pause is “a temporary stop in action or speech.” It is incredible how valuable that temporary stop in action or speech may be.
A pause allows us to be more present, more aware and to think a bit clearer in a sometimes cloudy and adrenaline filled moment. There could be great danger involved in situations of intense anger and rage without a pause. A five second pause allows us to slow down our thoughts and reactions, which could make a huge difference in hurting someone we care about and avoiding additional confrontation and aggression. A well timed pause will also get others to notice and will slow down the pace and will avoid impulsive reactions on both parties.
It was inspiring to hear the stories of recovery, and how each day decisions are made to lead fuller, more present lives with much hope for the future. The meeting was ended with all of the participants forming a large circle on the beach holding hands and together praying the “Our Father.” It was so unexpected and so moving…their faith in God and support for each other was as beautiful as the sunrise was that morning. So much of what they discussed can be applied to our own lives in our everyday struggles and difficulties we encounter.
We must learn to pause, because with pause, comes peace.
Spring and Rebirth
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
Earth teach me to forget myself as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me resignation as the leaves which die in the fall.
Earth teach me courage as the tree which stands all alone.
Earth teach me regeneration as the seed which rises in the spring.
–Sir William Alexander (c. 1567–1640)
Springtime…nature’s beautiful event that predictably happens each year, but each time it happens, it’s awesome. An incredibly display of God’s presence and power. Energy and life pours out from the earth with a new sense of vitality and life. It is a time of renewal, and a time for rebirth.
As we begin to work the soil and rake up remnants of the past seasons, we see signs of fragile life. Perennials and flower bulbs begin to poke their tiny heads towards the warm light of the sun. It just happens, without our help and without our prompting. A true miracle of nature. It reminds me that life at times will have it’s way and I can just rest in it. I can relax in what nature will offer and not try to control it or move it along.
Spring is also a great reminder that the dormant and cold winter months is a part of life and there is purpose to it. It allows us to have “down times” in our life that gives us an opportunity for regeneration and to appreciate the gloriousness of spring. Spring serves as a bridge from the barren cold darkness of winter to the bright sunshine and warmth of the summer. Our times of loss and suffering in life allows for new growth and hope for the future. Spring is the perfect time of the year to remind us that there are brighter days ahead.
“Every spring is the only spring—a perpetual astonishment,” says British author, Ellis Peters. It is nature’s amazing display of the cycle of life, death and rebirth. It’s a magical feast for our eyes, but is fleeting. A brief and wonderful gift from above.
Fleeting Moments
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
“Life and summer are fleeting,’ sang the bird. ‘Snow and dark, and the winter comes. Nothing remains the same.” –Elyne Mitchell, Silver Brumby’s Daughter
Our last summer vacation, there was a window in the back of our home that we rented with a small hummingbird feeder. The landlords left us instructions on a sugar water solution we were to place in the feeder and maybe we would be able to attract some hummingbirds during our week at the cottage. We mixed it up, filled the feeder and hoped for the best. After the second day of our vacation, we saw the first tiny, yet powerful creature buzz in and out to feed throughout the day. Then we began to see numerous hummingbirds hover as if suspended in mid-air with their buzzing wings beating an impressive 70 times per second (I looked this fact up!). It became my husband’s mission to photograph one of these birds as they majestically would appear—only in fleeting moment of time. After many attempts of stealthily sneaking up to the window of these amazing creatures, he eventually did get the shot—as you can see in the photo posted with this entry. When I look back on the photo, not only am I reminded of our wonderful days in the cottage by the lake, but also of the fleeting moments that we capture during our lifetime. Life is fleeting, and made up of many moments, some precious and some not so good.
These glimpses of beauty are around us waiting for us to be quiet enough to take them in and embrace them. They truly are God’s gifts waiting for us. At times, I find myself living from one activity to another. Looking so forward to the next time our family gets together, or the next weekend off, or the next vacation scheduled. It’s easy to get lost in the planning and looking to the future that we are not truly present in the moment. I will challenge myself this week to be truly aware of my surroundings and to appreciate God’s gifts around me. I realize that life can’t be a continuous vacation from a cottage on a mountain top overlooking a lake, but I will appreciate the mountain top view. I will also try to embrace any valleys coming my way. I think it’s in the valley’s of life that offer us the most growth and gratitude for the mountain top views ahead.
Simple Faith
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I recently started doing seminars on end of life wound care and was scheduled to do 3 seminars in 4 days up in Boston. There was a blizzard predicted for the region and I questioned the education company who scheduled my itinerary if they still wanted me to head up there as I felt like I was flying in the eye of the storm! They said to proceed and do as many seminars as I can do—given the projected forecast. I agreed, somewhat reluctantly, knowing that there was a chance that I may get stranded up there. On my way, flights were cancelled, but after 3 airplanes, I got to Boston. I did one seminar and then the snow began to fall, and fall, and fall, and fall. The weather service hit it right this time—a true blizzard with hurricane force winds. There was a travel ban for 30 hours and needless to say, I was trapped in a hotel for 3 days. I slept in, worked on my presentations, got antsy and ran 6 miles on the treadmill—which is not like me at all! During one of the times I actually left my room, I met an interesting woman from Belgium who was also in lock down mode due to the storm. We talked over our steel cut oats and coffee and before we knew it, the morning flew by. During our conversation, we tackled issues as complex as world affairs, social media, politics, health care, economy and raising our children. It was refreshing to hear her views and what her hopes and dreams were for her family and society as a whole. Our conversation led to what our greatest wish is for our children as they grew into adulthood. It’s interesting that we both wished the same thing for them…that is that our children have faith in something larger than themselves to believe and have hope in. The world has many distractions and feels chaotic at times—doesn’t matter if you call Belgium or the United States home. Our children need to feel grounded and safe, even when the world and the media surrounding them is reporting that the sky is falling. As we said our good byes and wished each other a safe journey, I came back to my room and started to think about what we had just shared and what that wish for a simple faith really means.
Simple faith. Does that mean not questioning, not struggling through, just simply saying yes blindly to something or someone out there? The words “childlike faith” is mentioned in the Bible, but what does that really mean? Yes, children are innocent, but are not exposed to the economy or why wars are started. I don’t think that God wants us to come to Him with this simplistic view of the world, but more an intellectual pursuit of Him and His goodness, as seen through so many people around us. To pursue Him and to come to know God is then accepting the great mystery of God. It’s in the struggle and the pursuit that we find Him.
I love the rain
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I love the rain. I always have. I remember as a child sitting on my back porch with my father, watching the night time sky light up with lighting and hearing the great big booms of thunder and knowing that I was loved and protected and nothing can harm me. I was safe under the porch with my dad. The rain couldn’t hurt me. My mom was not especially fond of thunderstorms, cradling my baby brother and closing all of the windows. This was a dad and daughter thing, and I welcomed any clouds or threat of thunderstorms that arose as it may be a time for popsicles, laughter and thunder bolts with my dad.
This morning, I’m at the beach and I awakened to buckets and buckets of rain. What a contrast to the sunshine and the 50+ sunscreen we had to apply yesterday. It reminds me of the way life turns, a day of sunshine followed by the buckets of rain.
There is something so cathartic, pure and clean with watching the rain come down in droves. It feels like grief in a way, as a person who experiences loss and finally lets it go. The tears start and you never think they will stop. The heart, soul and life pours out and this rain is grief.
This is natural process, but so difficult to go through. With this force of grief comes a time to know that God is present for each of us to carry us through this horrific storm. It’s been in the most difficult times of my life that I have felt the closest to God. His presence was palpable when I had the rainstorms of my life. Looking back, it was a time for renewal and to reach out to God for love and support. God was on the other side of the rainstorm.
Grief is very individualized and there are no rules that go along with it. It comes in waves and is at times unpredictable. However, I’m grateful for the process. It reminds me that I have loved and been loved. I truly am alive. I am grateful for the memories and the times shared. There must be rain for the flowers to grow. At the end, there may even be a rainbow…
My Camino… The Way of St. James
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
How does someone describe a trip of a lifetime that was just a walk? It’s something that I experienced that I find myself going back to in my mind several times a day, and ask myself “did that really happen”? I recall it, but it almost feels like a dream state of consciousness. The sounds, the people, the landscape, and the walking…like a dream.
This all started about 6 years ago when I brought home a movie from Redbox, called “The Way.” It looked kind of spiritual, wasn’t sure what it was all about, but convinced my husband to watch it with me. It was an amazingly emotional movie, and afterwards, we both said that the Camino is on our bucket list to do someday. Did I think we would actually have an opportunity to walk through Spain someday? Not really—not with life happening, three kids, I was in grad school at the time and was also working. But it was fun to dream about it…
Six years later, we were at a cancer fund-raiser, and I was talking to some folks about returning back to Lourdes on another mission trip. I’m a nurse practitioner and have traveled with this group of professionals from Lancaster as their nurse on several past mission trips. I was finding out some details to this next Lourdes trip, and then someone in the group said that there was another trip to Spain walking something called “The Camino.” My eyes lit up! I quickly found my husband—told him about the possible opportunity to walk the Camino, and we signed up to go that night. We had an opportunity to have our entire family go, but our two older children have jobs that wouldn’t allow them to leave 11 days, but our youngest son was able to go, as he would be on summer break from college.
So, we were fortunate to go with our youngest son, for 11 days, starting in Valencia, Portugal and walking up to Santiago, Spain. We received our travel pack a few days prior to leaving. We had trained, walking many miles trying to break in sneakers to avoid blistering while on the trail. We were given a scallop shell, a symbol that pilgrims have displayed on their backpacks while walking the Camino. The scallop shell has many grooves that meet at a single point. This shell represents all of the pilgrims coming from various routes of the Camino—Portugal, France, Italy, Ireland, etc…all meeting together at a single destination, the tomb of St James at Santiago. We walked for a total of 7 days, and covered approximately 87 miles, or 122 km. We received our Compestela, which is a certificate of accomplishment given to pilgrims who have completed the entire path or a minimum of 100 km of the Camino trail.
It’s interesting when all of your focus every day is just walking. The release of everyday modern life and quieting the mind just happens. Paying close attention, and being very tuned into your body and the effects of the walking were hyper acute. After the second day, with all of the uphill climbs and the hard descents, several of my fellow pilgrim’s feet were torn apart. Major blisters, hot spots and open pressure ulcers resulted. I’m a wound specialist, so I was kept busy at night after our dinners, popping blisters, applying specialized dressings to help with the hot spots, and wrapping up feet so they would offload pressure a bit better the next day.
We walked as a group at times, and I also walked alone. All of the pilgrims were given the address to land at the end of the day, and it was always a celebration to see each other at the next destination. There were a few days that I was worried sick while walking, as we couldn’t find our hotel, had to walk additional miles because we were lost, and had separated from our son, who was walking ahead of us. Needless to say, he was always at the hotel waiting for us—one time, in particular, sitting at the bar, drinking a nice cold beer with his friend, and said “what took you so long to get here!”. One of the first lessons I learned from the Camino is to let go. Especially with our youngest son, Christian. He figures it out all on his own, in his own time. I don’t need to control his destination—I believe he’s got his own path. It’s his Camino. Lesson learned.
The third day of our walk was our 29th wedding anniversary! When we got married, I carried my favorite flowers down the aisle—white calla lilies. Little did I know 29 years ago, that I would be hiking from Portugal to Spain and that white calla lilies grew wild everywhere on the Camino trail! I was surrounded by my favorite flower. It actually brought tears to my eyes. My husband picked a calla lily for me and sweetly placed it on the back of my back pack. I carried that with me for the remainder of my walk, putting it in water every night and placing it back on my pack in the morning.
Walking everyday was a lesson in mindfulness. I just finished training in mindfulness based stress reduction from UCSD and am getting ready to teach my first class. The Camino gave so many opportunities to practice mindfulness. Just simply being aware of where your feet are taking you and constantly looking for the signs to where you are going. There are yellow arrows and scallop shells on trees, buildings, and fences, but you have to look for them to know the right direction of the Camino. There were some instances where we were engrossed in a conversation with another pilgrim that we met on the way, and missed one of the scallop shells—and had to back track in order to not get lost.
The simple sounds of the walk, the many birds singing, the rhythm of my walking sticks hitting the dirt ground, the sound of my breath, and the trickle of the water from a creek nearby. The simplicity of the path. Traveling at a pace of approximately 2 miles per hour gives you the opportunity to really be in the moment, and to notice this sacred landscape. Just putting one foot in front of the other, one mile after another…
The energy of the Camino was palpable. Thinking of all the pilgrims who walked this path prior to us walking is overwhelming. It truly felt as though we were walking on sacred ground. The good intentions, all of the prayers offered, and all of the struggles and hardships to get to Santiago was felt every day walking. The locals couldn’t have been more encouraging as we walked amongst their vineyards, stopped at their makeshift cafes in their garages or on a spare room of their house. Offering us homegrown tomatoes, homemade crusty bread and fabulous cheese and sliced meats. The wine was inexpensive and so delicious! The locals always wished us “Buen Camino” in Spain and in Portugal “Bom Camino!”, always with a warm and encouraging smile.
The Camino showed us our age every day. The younger people in our group would always be the first ones to get to our destination as some of them actually ran the Camino. Trouble with knees, ankles, and feet were issues for the rest of us. Just when I felt like I needed to take a break to rest, I would come up to an elderly person who was barely walking. One gentleman that I remember was limping the entire way—almost dragging his left leg. He was wearing a back pack, and one of my fellow pilgrims offered to carry it for him for the day. He declined the offer, was appreciative, but stated that this was his walk and he will get there when he gets there. The patience and perseverance that he displayed was so encouraging. I kept walking…
Everyone does the Camino for different reasons—as a matter of fact, before you get your Compastela in Santiago, you have to fill out paper work where you were from, where you started your walk, showing your passport with the stamps from different towns you stopped in and also the last question…why did you do the Camino. The answers to this question were religious, spiritual or tourism. We met so many people from all over the world walking with us. Everyone has a story, everyone has a reason. Some are so personal, as the pilgrims are protected and quiet—sing this time, walking to make sense out of what they are experiencing. And others are openly trying to come to terms with what’s going on in their lives. We met a young man from Portugal who was fighting consumerism. He left his job for 2 weeks to walk the Camino and purposefully had no money. He wanted to do his Camino with just what he carried on his back. We met him in Santiago and he had accomplished his goal.
When we finally got to Santiago, it was bittersweet. Joy that we made it to our destination, and a yearning for the walk to continue. We made it in time for the pilgrim’s Mass. The highlight of the entire walk was the synchronization of the beautiful “hymn to Santiago” with the spectacular swinging of the huge Botafumeiro, the incense burning as this swinging metal container was wafting over our heads to the heights of this grand cathedral. It is said that the burning incense is symbolic for all of the pilgrim’s prayers being released out into the world after they complete their walk to Santiago. I was filled with emotion and gratitude.
I realize now that the journey is more important than the destination. The walk had become a metaphor for life. It’s the everyday “walk” that each of us have the opportunity to be present, to be aware of our body, the people around us, and taking in the views of our surroundings in making each day our own Camino. Everyone is on their own personal journey…it’s not the destination that counts.
Impermanence
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
Change is a part of life. It can be exhilarating, frightening, exhausting or relieving. It can spark emotions such as sadness, happiness, resistance or grasping and striving for things to stay the same.
Just as the summer is coming to a close and the kids are back to school, there is a quietness to our home. A feeling of emptiness that make our walls seem just a bit wider and the house much larger. The buzz of “what’s for dinner” or “can a friend join us tonight?” seems distant.
This idea of impermanence—that nothing ever stays the same comes to mind.
Do we resist impermanence or do we approach change with an openness and a non clinging, non striving attitude?
With clinging and resistance, there comes suffering.
Can we instead embrace the flow, the rhythm, that all things are coming and going? Like the clouds passing overhead and the waves in the ocean rising and falling…
Impermanence is the reality of life. Learning to let go and being mindful in the moment to moment arising and passing of each perceivable experience creates ease and grace in our lives.
A quote from a Thai meditation master, Ajahn Chah states…
“If you let go a little, you will have a little happiness
If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of happiness
If you let go completely, you will be free.”
The Promise
Grace DiPipi
It was my father’s 84th birthday on February 12, 1976, and the family got together to celebrate with cake and coffee. I baked a birthday cake and went to his home with my husband and my two children, who were 5 and 7 years old. He was very happy to celebrate his birthday with us. He always taught us that love and respect is everything in life. After having our cake and coffee, my children presented him with a birthday card with monetary gift in it, because at 84 years old he always told us he didn’t need anything.
Well, when he opened the card and he saw the money in it he said “I thank you will all my heart for the beautiful card and the money, but I have to give the money back to you. You have two children and you need it more than I do.” We all felt bad because we wanted to give him something for his birthday. So I promised him that I would make biscotti, his favorite Italian cookies for him.
As time went by, I got busy with taking care of my husband and my 2 children; I never got to make the biscotti. One day in April, 2 months later, I was home doing my chores and my doorbell rang. I answered it and it was my father. I was very happy and surprised to see him. He didn’t drive and lived about 6 miles away from me. That day he took the bus. I immediately kissed him and told him how happy I was to see him. “Come in!” I said to him. Before he came in he asked me “Did you forget what you promised me?” At the moment I did forget and he then he said “For my birthday you promised me biscotti. He then explained “In life you promise two people in this world. You promise saints and I am no saint, and you promise little babies. I got old and I got to be like a baby. Remember when you make a promise you have to keep it!”
God only knew how bad I felt but I learned the best lesson in my life that day. After apologizing and giving him a big hug, we went into my kitchen; I put Italian music on the stereo, and started making the biscotti that I promised him. This birthday gift was belated but I thank him every day for the lesson he taught me. I’m 76 years old now, and I’ve told this story to my children and grandchildren. I hope they will pass this on for many generations. My father passed away on May 5th, only one month later. Baking biscotti with him that day was really a gift he left for me and a time I will forever treasure.
Fear of the “H” Word…Hospice
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
I had worked in hospice for approximately eight years and when my father was physically declining, it was extremely difficult for me to bring up the “H” word to my own family. My mother whispered it around my dad and the rest of the family. I knew it was time to get hospice involved, but there was so much fear and misconceptions around the “H” word, that it was difficult to get the entire family on board as well as my dad’s physician. When was the right time? I even doubted myself at times in suggesting it…
For most patients and families, accepting the time has come for hospice care can be extremely stressful and emotional. It is the time that the reality of the end of life may be near. When do you make that decision? Medically, the time is right when the attending physician indicates that life expectancy is six months or less and that further aggressive treatment is no longer beneficial or may cause unnecessary discomfort. Choosing hospice does not mean giving up. Many patients actually rally and feel much better after hospice services are started as pressures of aggressive therapies are no longer part of their plan of care. Families feel supported and there is a shift to a holistic approach to care, addressing spiritual, emotional, social as well as physical needs are addressed.
Hospice is most effective when involved sooner rather than later in a person’s life limiting disease. Unfortunately, I often see it used as a last minute “death bed” service. It’s too often that I hear family members saying to me “I wish we had known about hospice sooner.”
Fear is probably the biggest factor in not choosing hospice. Families are sometimes fearful that they are no longer searching for a cure for their loved one. This may cause guilt for family members and a sense of “giving up,” or worse—trying to relieve themselves of the burden of care. Sometimes there is also fear on the doctor’s part as they fear that their patients will feel abandoned if they suggest hospice.
When we finally got hospice involved with my father’s care, there was such a sense of relief for my family, and most of all, for my dad. My mother had been caring for my dad without much help and was starting to feel exhausted and overwhelmed at times. The hospice team came in and supported, educated and listened. It is what we needed as a family to come to terms of what was happening and also giving my Dad the dignity he so deserved and the comfort he was longing for.
What Should I Say
By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
Visiting someone who is dying is not the most comfortable thing to do. What should I say when I walk in? What will that person look like? What if I cry? What if we both just break down? Will I make the situation worse? The entire scenario can be so uncomfortable that some will just avoid it all together. It is scary to many of us because it reminds us of our own mortality. We are worried about saying the “wrong” thing. It is hard to find the right words to express our intense feelings of sadness or impending loss, but by avoiding the visit all together may result in many missed opportunities. Opportunities of love, sharing and growth both for you and the person dealing with a time limited prognosis are possible with just a few moments shared. Yes, it is uncomfortable and very sad to witness your loved one’s failing body, declining health, and weakened spirit, but we must be careful not to loose sight of what that person is and was, and is so much more than their decline and impending death. There are no perfect words to say, but somehow, if you can embrace the moment and look at it with a must broader perspective, it may be less intimidating.
The most important thing that I’ve learned over the years of taking care of people who are dying is to be present and to listen. Listening and just being with them is often times enough. Conversation does not need to take place continuously throughout your visit. Your loved one may be in an extremely weakened state and having an active conversation may be very strenuous at this time. Holding a hand, just sitting or just being there may be just what is needed.
Often times, when we engage a person we ask “How are you?” That needs to be a question with some depth —not just accepting the answer “fine” or “OK.” We may want to ask again and say, “No, I mean how you are really.” And then really listen and listen well.
Showing compassion and empathy to what the dying person is experiencing is helpful. We may feel frustrated ourselves that we can’t change a situation and the feelings of sadness and loss are overwhelming. Empathizing with someone who is dying and saying “I am so sorry that you have to experience this” may be a way to meet that person half way. You will never know what that person is feeling, but we can express that we are sorry for what they are feeling.
Revisiting the past of some happy memories together can lighten up the mood. Remembering shared past experiences and remembering shared times together may be a pleasant bridge to connect you during this time.
Discussing the future is not always an easy task. You may ask, “What will your tomorrow look like?” What ever the answer is, try to be open and accepting of where that person is. Again, you may not need a response to the answer, just listening and being may all that is needed at this time.
I think the most difficult part of the conversation is ending the visit. You can say, “I have to be on my way now, I have enjoyed spending this time with you.” You may want to tell them that you will be thinking about them, or praying for them. This may be the last chance that you get to tell that person how much they mean to you. Don’t miss any opportunities that may present themselves. You may be overwhelmed by emotion upon leaving, but know that the time spent made a positive difference for yourself and your loved one.
You may never realize the impact of your visit on both your loved one and yourself. Although extremely difficult, it may be one of the most memorable, intimate and blessed moments you will experience with your loved one.