The Ferrymen − 14 January, 2008
A woman died at the nursing home the other day. This isn't unusual by any means, given the nature of the place. But listening to some of the nurses talk about made me stop what I was doing and listen.
They reminded me of children as they spoke, and even though they saw that sort of thing all the time, their voices were underlined by a kind of awe. I began to imagine these women, who make it their job to tend to the needs of the "near-dead", as small children preforming tasks that they didn't really understand. Who understands anything about death? Certainly not these barely educated nurses and aids, who couldn't seem to hide from the idea of death behind their college years.
They're like blindfolded ferrymen, ushering lost souls across the River Styx. They don't know precisely what is happening, but they understand that it's something frightening, something much larger than themselves. They are laborers for the spirit of death.
I pity these simple women.
Comments:
pepero (January 17, 2008. 05:38pm)
reading you're story reminded me of when i worked in a hospital while i was in college. i believe no matter how many years a nurse, physician or anyone who has cared and interacted with a patient and their family member's is immune and unaffected when the person passes away.
josh you've reminded me of a story i overhead in the hospital cafeteria. the conversation was between two physicians, one was the head of oncology and the other one was a much younger physician. the younger physician was breaking down in tears as she spoke. she confessed to feeling emotionally drained and feeling like utter failure because as an oncologist she saw more patients die than survive. all the suffering the patient and their families had to endure. most of the patients eventually succumb to the disease. the stories she told were rather heart wrenching and made teary eyed. although the elder physician tried to comfort her, she ended up resigning.
Oblivious (January 17, 2008. 09:52pm)
Wow.
Thanks for sharing, Caroline.