Many of us probably kept a journal at some point growing up. I know I did. And when I look back at them, I read entries about what I did, what I ate and the time I went to bed on any given day. I’m not sure why I ever thought that last piece of information about my fascinating 10-year-old life would be important for any future reading. It seems, though, taking inventory of our days comes naturally to us.
It’s a precious gift to be there to say goodbye. But when the actual moment comes, it can be hard to know what to do or where to start. Maybe we are thrown by the beeping ICU screens. Or maybe we don’t know how to begin unwinding a conflict that has been years in the making. Sometimes there’s plenty of time to say all that is needed, and the words flow with ease. Many times, though, we struggle for words in those precious moments. As Stephen Jenkinson, who has written extensively about grief, observed: We often stumble into our dying as amateurs.
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.
And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. — Matthew 22:37–40