Siyahamba



It was three years ago this morning, Sunday, April 19, 2009. Nearing the end of my five years as Vicar of St. Thomas by the Sea Episcopal Church, I left home early to drive the seventeen miles out to Laguna Beach. Linda stayed home because we were expecting the call from Joe. It came, "conveniently" of all things, between services, and Linda rang me to say, “Joe just called. Patty died twenty minutes ago.” Beloved daughter-in-law had finished life after an eight or nine year fight with breast cancer. The feeling was crushing. Just crushing.
In a telephone conversation a few months earlier, Patty had told me, “I’m so scared. And I'm so tired of putting on a happy face.” There was nothing I could do for her. She went on with life, “putting on a happy face,” as she said. 
Besides physical pain that can accompany some terminal illnesses, there may be anxiety, grief, fear, terror. Patty had at least some of that. What might have been done to help her mentally and emotionally when nothing more could be done physically? NYT yesterday had a relevant article, "How Psychedelic Drugs Can Help Patients Face Death". It was excellent and is tucked away in mind in case ever needed. That people abused psychedelic drugs doesn’t make them “bad” any more than the abuse of alcohol, or firearms, or automobiles or marijuana makes them “bad.” Tobacco? Not going there. Anyway, the link to that NYT piece.
We had expected to have one more Sunday at St. Thomas after that, but we left mid-week to drive to Dayton, Ohio, where the following Saturday I officiated Patty’s funeral at Lutheran Church of Our Savior. So, that Sunday that Patty died turned out to be our last at St. Thomas. For that day, choir director Norman Hair and organist Gordon Gaskin had put together, for me, a choir presentation of “Siyahamba, We are marching in the light of God.” It was beautifully done, and made the day, our last Sunday at St. Thomas, far more than special, very dear, and very memorable, sung as the offertory at the ten-thirty service less than an hour after Joe’s call.
Life never comes round again, does it! We loved you dearly, Patty. And Gordon. And Norman. Very, very dearly. Very dearly indeed. God rest ye.
Tom+