Third in a series of reflections on Catholic teaching regarding health and end-of-life issues

In recent weeks I have often thought about the irony that as I am writing a series of columns about Catholic teaching on health and end-of-life decisions, my mother experienced a serious downturn in health, which led to her death on Sept. 7. Some years ago, she granted me Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care (sometimes called “Health Care Proxy”). She went this route rather than complete an “Advance Medical Directive” (sometimes called a “Living Will”), preferring not to check a list of options that may be difficult to interpret in the concrete. We talked about her wishes, and she summarized by saying simply, “If you have to make decisions about my health care, I just want to make sure they are in keeping with Church teaching.”
That’s the way Mom was. Independent by nature, having raised five kids and widowed at 51, she was quite capable of taking good care of herself until several years ago. Independent as she was, the guide she always clung to trustingly was her Catholic faith and its teachings.
In early 2005 it became clear to my sisters and me that it was time for Mom to leave her home of 47 years and move to a place where she could remain independent but safe and receive the care she needed. It was a tough decision, a painful letting-go, but Mom took it in stride.
After making the move to a Catholic assisted-living facility, she began to realize it had been the right thing, but she still grieved the loss of her house and the self-emptying this new stage of life required of her. The day she visited the empty house to say good-bye and inspect the moving project my family had undertaken on her behalf, she told one of my sisters, “There was a lot of good living in this house.”
As the months passed, her health declined and she slowed considerably; her memory began to fail, her heart ailments worsened and other complications arose. When I visited her Aug. 30, she told me she thought the Lord was going to call her soon. The next morning she was taken by ambulance to the hospital, where she spent the last week of her life in the intensive care unit.
It was a true blessing that all five of us kids were able to spend most of that week with her and with one another. We prayed with and for her, talked to her, told family stories and tried to do what we could to make her comfortable when she was restless or in pain. Two of my sisters sang quietly to her. Many relatives and friends visited.
In the early days she was conscious part of the time and spoke about dying, but as the week wore on she mostly slept, though often fitfully. Late in the afternoon of Sept. 7, one of my nieces noticed that her heart rate began to slow, and within 20 minutes she died.
We knew the day she entered the hospital that decisions would have to be made about her medical care, and although I had Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care I wanted every member of the family to be involved in those decisions. I asked a physician who is a family friend to meet with us to answer questions about her condition, prognosis and care. The meeting was extremely helpful and allowed us to air our thoughts and feelings and remind one another of what Mom had said about her wishes. With the doctor’s help we prayerfully reached consensus about Mom’s care. It was a comfort to see how Church teaching gave us good direction and peace of mind.
As difficult as it was to see Mom suffer physically the last two years of her life, it was inspiring to watch as she struggled to understand how God was at work in her suffering and dying. We could love and comfort her, but this journey was hers to make. As we kept vigil that final week, it became clear that something truly holy and mysterious was taking place: the ultimate “letting-go” on Mom’s part, the ultimate “calling” on God’s part. As she had done in life, she now gave herself to God in the mystery of dying, trusting that though it was not easy, God would see her through.
We wondered out loud what she was thinking and seeing and asked God to help us understand how he was at work. A thousand thoughts and feelings, a thousand memories and a thousand quiet moments passed through the darkened room. We realized that as Mom was close to God in death, we were close to him at her bedside.
Someone recently gave me a holy card with these beautiful words of St. John of the Cross: “And I saw the river over which every soul must pass to reach the kingdom of heaven. And the name of that river was Suffering … And I saw the boat which carried souls across the river. And the name of that boat was Love.”
It helps me to write about Mom’s final days, and I hope it helps you to know that Catholic teaching about the end of life is an expression of God’s love for the lives he has created and redeemed. Jesus experienced human suffering and death, and in baptism we were joined to his victory over them. Our suffering and our death, as mysterious and painful as they might be, find their meaning in him who died for us and draws us to himself. No one who places trust in him in living or in dying will ever be disappointed.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.