Free I See You Made an Effort: Compliments, Indignities, and Survival Stories from the Edge of 50 by Annabelle Gurwitch Page B

tried to carve out my usefulness. Her last relationship, with a foodie who had run a bacon-of-the-month mail-order business, had ended two years before. He left her with a Viking oven and a large collection of wines, but without hope of entering into another relationship. I decided I would start touching her as much as possible. We’d smoke her medical marijuana and then I’d washher hair. She’d put her head in my lap, and I’d stroke her head and massage her feet.
    Within eight months, we were in Bergman territory. Every time I’d leave her, we’d say good-bye not knowing if this would be
that
good-bye. There were so many farewells that she was starting to tire of them. It was gut-wrenching.
    “You’re losing me, but I’m losing everyone I love all at once.”
    Robin couldn’t tolerate even the most soothing of music, watch television or read, and barely rose from her bed. Hospice workers began twenty-four-hour shifts.
    Every day I began bracing for the call that would tell me she had passed, but it didn’t come. I was performing around the country and each time I’d see 828-3886 flash on my phone, I’d answer with the same question. Is this the call? “It’s not
that
call, but I think you should come over when you get back in town and say good-bye,” one of her caregivers would say. As soon as my plane would land, I’d drop my suitcases at home, drive to her place, hop into her bed, massage her bony shoulders and lead her through a relaxation exercise I learned from a rabbi. We’re both atheists, but what harm could it do?
    “Picture yourself lying on a beach. The sun warms your body. You know, Robin, we should really take you to the beach now that you don’t need to worry about skin cancer! Imagine your soul rising up into the atmosphere, even though there is no soul separate from the body. Did you know that it was only after people realized that the body deteriorated after death, they needed to conceive of something that was separate from the corporeal body in order to support the idea of resurrection, and that’s how the concept of thesoul being untethered to the body became an accepted belief? * Anyway, ‘you,’ whatever that means, rise up to the clouds to Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden, your soul’s true home. I prefer concrete under my feet, but whatever works—maybe it’s Bergerac or Cahors. Everyone you love and who loves you is waiting for you. I suppose that could be two separate and distinct groups of people. I’m not sure what happens if your grandmother would prefer not to spend the afterlife in the company of your grandfather, which I’m sure is true in my family, but maybe the way it works is that these ‘souls’ get together to greet you and then they go off to their own corner of heaven with the people they’d prefer to spend eternity with—anyway, you greet your loved ones and you’re surrounded by love. You’re surrounded by love, Robin. Let go of any stress you’re feeling. Let go. Just let go. Now, slowly return back to your body in a more relaxed state,” I’d repeat.
    I’d been doing this meditation in times of stress for years, but it wasn’t until I lay in Robin’s bed that I realized it might actually be a preparation for the Big Relaxation and that it might not be a bad idea to skip the part about returning to your body, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. She didn’t need me to decide for her when to go.
    The words of the dying hold a special power. Famous last words are oft quoted, even if they aren’t true.
Jefferson lives
,John Adams supposedly proclaimed, the rivalry between these two Founding Fathers following him to the death. I imagine his real last words were probably
I’m so uncomfortable . . . water, hot, where?
Some non sequitur. But we like this idea, the it-all-makes-sense-now moment that connects you to the dying, which gives their life meaning and in turn gives your life meaning and thus It All Makes Sense. I’m not going to lie