A Precious Gift

23rd Oct 2007

I held a life in my hands the other day and watched helplessly as it ebbed away.

It was a good day to die. The sun was bright without giving out much heat, the early morning frost still liyng on the ground in patches – slow to give way to the weak rays of the sun.

There was a stillness in the air, too. Being a Sunday, there was no noise of distant traffic . The only noise to disturb the quiet was the sound of my voice, muttering soft words of comfort.

I watched the breathing become more and more shallow. There was an occasional rally, when the head would lift and turn in my direction and our eyes would lock.

I felt the tears welling up in my own as I saw the trusting look in those eyes. I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do now to change the outcome. All I could hope for was to ease the pain of passing – to provide some warmth, some comfort, to banish fear.

For 20 minutes or so I sat in the garden clutching this precious life against my chest, the dogs lying at my feet, until the last breathe was breathed. As the tears flowed freely, I tried to console myself that at least I had been there at the end. That I had been there to witness the crossing over. That my intervention had at least spared her the agonies of a cruel painful death at the hands of her tormentors, their vicious beaks stabbing at her eyes and exposed neck as she lay exhausted, all strength to fight gone, in our back-garden. I hoped I had eased her pain and suffering and made her last moments peaceful – that I had allowed her a dignified death.

Time is a precious commodity. One of the most valuable presents one can give to another – is simply our time. To be there to share their triumphs and their defeats. To be there when they need us. To help ease their pain and suffering.

To be with them as they prepare to leave this earth.