Sadness

A member of the congregation I serve is close to death.
He no longer awakens when I go into his hospital room.

According to his wife, when he is awake he is rambling on about things she doesn't understand.
This man is 91, almost 92 years old. He has lived a long, fruitful life.
He has a loving committed wife and 4 grown children, grandchildren.

Only last week he was lucid and talkative.
Not so much anymore and perhaps nevermore.

His wife is understandably tearful.
However, this tearful woman touched my heart this morning.
She is from my grandmother's generation where you stood strong and never let anyone know anything was wrong. It was rare to see her cry. She cried when her firstborn died. I don't remember her crying when my grandfather died . . . probably did it in solitude.
The women of this generation amaze me with their stamina,
their fortitude,
their outspokenness,
their commitment to family often without thought for themselves.
They always say they are fine no matter their real situation.
And they truly think they are fine.

I'm sad that this life, these relationships, are coming to an end.
It is tough to watch a man filled with life slip away.
The life is slowly leaving the body.
In many ways I think the life (Spirit) has already gone.
We wait for the physical body to completely wear out.

I'm sad.
As the pastor, I am sad because I really care about my congregation.
I was called here to love the congregation and I do.
It is hard to love people sometimes and sometimes, like today, love seems to set you up for pain and suffering.