Last Words

By: Amy Marcle

Recently, I ran across an article on social media that listed some of the last words of famous people who had passed away.  The words varied as much as the personalities of those who said them.  Some were thoughtful cries out to God, while others cursed Him.  Some were funny.  Some were rude.  The only thing many of them had in common was that they were the very last words ever spoken aloud by someone.  After reading the article, I thought about
what my last words might be one day.  But then I thought about the last words I had already had…last words I spoke to
someone before they died. The first experience that comes to my mind is when my grandfather passed away.  He had battled chronic kidney disease for several years and had recently made the decision to stop his dialysis treatments.  The doctor
had informed him that without treatment he would only survive at the most ten days.  My grandfather was strong and stubborn as an ox.  He had been through so much in his lifetime, but he was tired.  I knew he was tired.  We all
did.  It was late evening on the 9^th day since my grandfather’s last dialysis treatment.  He was inpatient at the local hospital because he did not want to burden my grandmother by passing away at their home. He felt it would be too much for her.  Our family gathered in the hall outside his room, taking turns sitting with him.  He was asleep mostly as they had put him on comfort measures.  I tiptoed into his room and walked up to his bedside.  His breathing was slow, and his eyes were closed.  I touched his hand and whispered to him, “Bye, Grandaddy.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  He roused around and opened his eyes.  I knew what he was about to say because he said the same words to me every time I left his house.  “Where are you going?  You just got here.”   This man hadn’t spoken all day, but his coin phrase didn’t fail me.  I couldn’t help but laugh.  I explained to him that we had been there all day, but he had been resting so I didn’t want to disturb his rest.  I held his hand and told him that I would see him tomorrow and that I loved him. 
I knew in my heart the chances of me seeing him again were slim.  I could have made a big production for my
last words to my grandfather, but simplicity seemed to be best, and I wanted
him to feel at ease and not worried if I complicated the situation with a long
goodbye.  He nodded his head and drifted back off to sleep.  In the wee hours of the morning, I got the phone call that my grandfather had passed away.  I always held it close to my heart that I was one of the last people he spoke to and that the conversation we had was one of our normal routines. Years later, I had my last words with my grandmother, she
had moved into an assisted living facility a few years after my grandfather had
passed away.  She adapted fairly well to her new home. Much better than we had anticipated.  In the last few months of her life, she had
entered a nursing facility so they could better monitor her health.  Her mind was beginning to show signs of dementia, but I knew all along it was her getting ready to leave her earthly home.  She was having conversations with
people who had long been gone from earth…her mother…her husband…siblings.  She often thought that my father, her only child, was my grandfather and talked to him as if he was.  There are two conversations I recall having with my grandmother as her life was nearing its end.  One night, I went to visit her and upon entering her room she looked at me as if she was unusually worried, almost scared.  “Have you seen Mama?” she asked me.  I was never sure she knew who I was at that
moment.  But the look on her face was one of deep concern.  “I have been looking and looking for mama but can’t find her.  Is Mama ok?  Do you know where she is?”  My heart broke for her and her anxiety about not being able to locate her mother.  She was completely unaware of what year it was, where she was, where her mother was, or who this stranger was she was now
questioning.  I consoled her and told her not to worry, and asked if she wanted me to help her find her.  Her face brightened at the idea of having
help locating her mother.  So, I sat her up straight in her wheelchair and began pushing her down the halls to help her look for her mama.  She called out for her at each door we came to…” Mama?

and came face to face with my grandmother. 
“Granny, I think your mama is probably resting.  That’s why she’s not answering us right
now.  She is sleeping and can’t hear us
calling.  But I promise you she is ok,
and she is safe.”  My grandmother made me
reassure her of this several times before she accepted what I was telling her.
“So, you think she is ok?” she asked. Then, I never will forget what she said
to me as her eyes met mine…” you just sparkle when you are here.”  She found herself at ease and we returned to
her room to visit for a while.  She never
mentioned her mother to me again. 

With each new visit, I could see the decline in my
grandmother’s health.  She no longer
enjoyed meals, or watching television, or talking.  She slept most of the time and ate little.  The nurses had prepared us that she was now
in the end stage of life.  I kept
visiting.  Much like with my grandfather,
I never planned what my last word to her would be.  But I knew what needed to be said to
her.  She was tired, but she was fighting
to stay alive for what I can only believe was she felt we weren’t ready to let
her go. 

I went alone for my final visit.  I waited until I knew nobody else would be
there so I could talk to her privately. 
I sat on her bed with her and held her hand and whispered to her the
following: “Are you tired Granny?”  She
nodded yes.  “Do you want to go see your
Mama and my grandaddy?”  She nodded yes.  I squeezed her hand and said.  “Go. 
Its ok.  You can go be with them.”  The lump in my throat as I type this is just
as large as it was the night, I said these words to her.  My last words to my Grandmother.  But I felt she needed to hear them. I felt
she was waiting for the ok to do what she was ready to do…to give up her
earthly fight and head home to be with Jesus.

Not all of our last words to people are as comforting as
these two scenarios.  There is an
incident where the last words I spoke to someone were harsh, and they still
haunt me from time to time.  I had gotten
into an argument with a young co-worker regarding his constant need to be in
everyone else’s business.  He had made me
the subject of one of his conversations and upon overhearing it, I lost
it.  “Stay out of my business and don’t
you ever talk to me again,” I shouted in front of a group of people.  Before I laid eyes on him again, he was
killed in an automobile accident.  I
never hated this person.  He just caught
me on a bad day, and I spoke out of anger without actively listening to what I
was saying.  A feeling I never want to
experience again.

I have learned throughout my personal mental health journey,
the importance of mindful expressions of feelings.  I never go to bed without saying I love you
to my husband and my daughter.  Matter of
fact, my daughter has adapted that concept after suffering a loss of a dear
person in her life.  We never hang up the
phone without saying I love you, without making sure everyone is good…both
mentally and physically. 

By practicing empathy in our communication, we not only
allow ourselves to develop emotionally in relationships, but we also provide
others with comfort in knowing they are cared for and loved., a feeling that
those coping with anxiety need more than anything. 

The Bible teaches us to “let your speech always be gracious,
seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you should answer each
person.”  Colossians 4:6

Don’t let those last words take up space in your head.  Keep your speech gracious so that you have no
regrets. 

Last words are important. 
What will yours be?