Saturday, 27 August 2005
Maureen Gail (Donnelly) Neal passed quietly at 1:15 in the afternoon. The day was particularly beautiful, not to hot, not to cold, a light breeze, very comfortable. I was holding Maureen’s hand having just given her a blessing of release. She simply did not take another breath. There was no struggle, no discomfort, just a barely audible sigh. Maureen was simply waiting for me to know it was time.
Before calling the medical examiner and beginning to address the numerous details required by society, I let go of Maureen’s hand and read out loud our favorite scripture, some fourteen verses long. Maureen’s spirit, though released, lingered in the room to comfort me. I felt her presence much more keenly than the previous days while she yet lived. Her love and compassion hung thick in the air until the distractions began to arrive. As soon as this message is written and the phone stops ringing I hope to have her presence return to me. I know her spirit is here, how long she is permitted to stay I do not know, but I suspect and hope it will be at least through her memorial service.
The last few nights our children have been here with Maureen and I. Last night their husbands and wives were with them. Although it is difficult to deal with the suffering of a loved one, these past few days have been wonderful for us all. Had Maureen passed earlier we might have missed these incredible loving experiences. The night before last, one of our daughters said through muffled sobs as she left our home around midnight, “This has been the most special evening of my life.”
A Memorial service to honor Maureen will be held at 2pm on Wednesday, August 31, 2005, at the Sandy River Ward of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To reach the chapel coming from Portland, Oregon proceed east on Hwy 26 towards Mount Hood, when arriving to the City of Sandy turn left at Bluff Road, proceed one mile north, the church building is on the left in easy view. The address is 16317 SE Bluff Road, Sandy, Oregon 97055.
Flowers may be sent directly to the chapel for delivery before 1pm on the day of the Memorial Service.
Maureen has always been the heart of our family. It is through her that I learned that people are more important than things, an obvious conclusion but not really understood by many, and not the younger me. Maureen has taught me so many things, but virtually all of them are centered on love. Compassion and forgiveness is love in action.
Before Maureen passed, Natalie came home from a trip to town and offered to make me a sandwich, which I gratefully accepted. While we were eating I told her it was a good day to die. She looked at me quizzically asking me to repeat what I’d said. I told her again, “It’s a good day to die,” and then quietly shared a few thoughts as to why. Natalie left about noon headed to her tree farm a few miles away; after loading her youngest daughter’s four-wheeler into the trailer she had hooked up behind her truck. I had just finished cleaning Maureen’s mouth with the soft pink sponge swaps brought in from Walgreen Pharmacy earlier in the day. Maureen was clean, calm and at peace, but her labored breathing was loud. She struggled for every breath and had been doing so for days.
I stepped outside to the table some twenty feet from where Maureen slept in an electric recliner that could stand her up so that I could move her when going to toilet or back to her room. I read more from the book “The Twelve Conditions of a Miracle,” by Todd Michael. As Natalie drove out the driveway it again occurred to me that this was the perfect time for Maureen to give up her cancer-ridden body and be released on to the next world.
Minutes later I set down the book and walked back inside and spoke quietly with Maureen for some time. We had discussed her passing many times and decided that I should give her a blessing of release when it seemed right, and she would decide whether it was time or not. Although she was unable to talk, her eyes were pleading that it was time. I got up the courage to fulfill my promise. Then of a sudden I was afraid. Afraid of losing the very center of my life. She had been everything to me since we were teenagers. She knew. She saw the conflict in my eyes and my failing courage. She blinked to me and moved her head yes. I held her hands in mine. Sobbing I told her how much I loved her and tried to make clear this was her decision not mine. I let go, stepped behind the reclining chair, placed my hands upon her head and with a heartfelt prayer released her soul. I stood there quietly waiting to hear the rasping breath that had become so common. It never came. Not a single breath, just a sigh.