Another Poem

THE HOLDING OF HANDS
By Sherwin Sleeves
@sherwinsleeves on Instagram - visit this account to follow or experience more of this poet's work!

 
When I was a child, I held hands with everyone I met.
My parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins,
The hands of teachers and friends and children nearby.
I would walk down shopping isles and take people’s hands
Until one took mine back.
When I was five, my handholding days came to an end,
When I was told I was getting too old for the holding of hands,
And for many years I lived a life without the holding of hands
Until I had a child of my own, and the moment my son began to walk,
He took my hand and I began to live that way again.
And this is to say, that the very last thing I plan to do on Earth,
Is hold someone’s hand.
I hope it is my wife’s hand, or my son’s hand, or both their hands.
But it might be the hand of a nurse, somewhere,
Or the hand, even, of a stranger
In a shopping isle.
But if there is no one there, I will hold my own hand.
And that will be the hand of the boy I once was;
We will take one last walk together
Into the heart of the heart the country;
“There is only the holding of hands”, I will tell him,
“There is only
The holding
Of hands.”
 
 

In this month's Memento Mori Conversations, we discussed the holding of hands - - what is it to be by the bedside of someone dying, and be the one to hold their hand? And also, we explored our answers to the question "Have you considered who's hand you might wish to be holding in your own last moments. . . a person known to you, a stranger, or what if that person is only you, yourself?"

We also discussed the phenomenon whereby many people do end up dying when no one is in the room. They may hold hands, exchange words and other touch, even state that they wish someone nearby, but ultimately end up leaving when the room is empty.

Of course we cannot know the reasons, only speculate. One thing many dying people have shared with me, in my work in hospice, is that it is very hard to see and think about the sadness we cause our loved ones by our dying.  Some people actively tell me they would prefer to die with no one around, and that the idea of "letting go" is much easier to consider doing when one is alone.

Is dying alone a peaceful thought for you? A frightening one?  Neither here nor there?

 As always,
Live and Die Heartfully, Dear Friends, or, at least, may they be all you hope for them to be!
With Love,
Rev. Maya