20/05/2025
An education that we all need to help our loved ones. If we don’t talk or understand about dying , we simply are unaware of the difference that we can make to ensure that our nearest and dearest have a good death.
When my mother began speaking to empty corners of her hospital room, I thought we had lost her to confusion. The doctors called it terminal delirium. But Callanan and Kelley's "Final Gifts" taught me to listen differently.
"Who are you talking to, Mom?" I asked one evening.
"Your father," she said simply. Dad had been gone twelve years.
"What's he saying?"
She smiled. "That the boat is ready."
My parents had loved sailing. For thirty summers, their small blue sailboat carried them across Michigan lakes.
I could have corrected her. Could have reminded her that Dad was gone, that there was no boat anymore. Instead, I remembered what I'd learned from "Final Gifts" and asked, "Is it a good day for sailing?"
Her face brightened. "Perfect wind. He's been waiting for me to finish my goodbyes."
That night, I held her hand and said, "Mom, when you're ready for that sail with Dad, it's okay. I'll miss you terribly, but I'll be alright."
She squeezed my fingers weakly. "I know, sweetheart. I've just been waiting to hear that."
Three hours later, she was gone—catching the perfect wind home.
"Final Gifts" showed me that my mother wasn't confused. She was preparing. Her mysterious words weren't symptoms to manage but invitations to connect one last time, if only I was brave enough to meet her where she was.
In their gentle wisdom, Callanan and Kelley don't just teach us how to understand the dying—they show us how to say goodbye with grace, how to listen when the language changes, how to recognize that even in leaving, our loved ones have something precious to give us.
The most beautiful truth in their book is also the simplest: we can be present with each other until the very end. Beyond medical facts and physical care plans lies this profound gift—the possibility of meaningful connection across the ultimate threshold.
My mother's last words were about sailing with my father. Thanks to two wise hospice nurses, I knew enough to say, "The wind is perfect. Safe journey."
BOOK: https://amzn.to/4krzNap