I sat at the dining room table trying to get onto Jon’s blog last night after posting the piece I had written about visiting Susan in the hospital. When it wasn’t working I tried on my iPhone, but that did work either.
Then Jon called out from his office and said that Susan had died.
I was relieved that she had moved on and sad at the same time. Then I smiled because I had no doubt that Jon’s blog crashing was a communication from Susan.
How do you know Jon asked me later. “I don’t really,” I said. ” It’s a feeling, something I believe to be true.” I’d experienced this kind of thing before when someone dies. I’d heard similar stories from other people. It makes sense to me.
I don’t claim to know what Susan was trying to say or that it was even an intellectual effort on her part. I just believe it’s a kind of communication. An acknowledgment of Susan leaving and our connection to her.
What better way to get a message to Jon than through his blog.
Jon’s done so much for Susan in these past couple of weeks, much more than I did for her. And as he wrote on his blog, he fell right back into the friendship, the way it was before he broke off the relationship.
I couldn’t do that, but I more than made my peace with Susan and I hope I did something similar for her.
I’m not one to make someone into a saint after they die. I think people are much more interesting and even loveable when I can understand their vulnerabilities as well as the parts of them that are easy to be like.
I don’t know if I could have continued to be Susan’s friend if she lived. I don’t know if I have that kind of acceptance in me. Maybe we could have worked something out if we both really wanted to.
I am grateful that I was able to be helpful to Susan when she was dying. Our relationship, no matter how damaged it was, taught me a lot about myself. And when I sat next to her last night in the hospital, communicating more with my feelings than words, I did feel love for her.
I keep learning that there are all different kinds of friendships and many different kinds of love.
I don’t claim to know, but it feels to me like there is freedom in death. That’s what I wish for Susan, to freely move on to whatever comes next.
9 thoughts on “Susan, Rest Well Friend”
As a retired RN with a lot of hospice experience, and now as a hospice volunteer for an organization called End of Life Services here in VT, I have been closely following Jon’s and yours journey with Susan as she made her final transition. I think that Susan was able to let go once she knew that Sally was safe and that Donna was able to come to say goodbye. You, Jon and Donna did good work.
BTW-I could not get onto Jon’s BFJ blog on it’s regular platform, nor on the BFJ FB page either, last night around 11:30 pm-so I went to bed.
I also kept trying to get into Jon’s blog last night, but after many confusing attempts, gave up just before midnight. The opening sentences that FB posted gave me the news that Susan had transitioned. You each gave a heartfull send off to Susan. She died at Peace because of your help and willingness to forgive, but not forget. This is true honesty and true friendship…
Maybe that is true friendship Scott.
I agree about the communication thing. I don’t know why I do, but like you, it’s just something that I feel. Like my belief that there are no coincidences. I’m glad Susan has found peace. She looked so happy in that picture…I shall remember this way.
I like to think of her smiling like that too Carolyn.
I’m with you on your belief that it was Susan communicating with Jon with his blog crash. It makes perfect sense to me. I’m glad too to know that Susan is now at peace.
It seems a lot of people feel the same Barb.
Beautiful Maria. I felt the same way when I couldn’t get on Jon’s blog late last night. Shows how powerful our spirit is after death here. Oh the mysteries of life and after this life. I bet Susan is on quite the adventure. Thank you for your honesty about friendship. Unconditional love is powerful but I still believe in boundaries too 🙂
Must be true Janet.