Reverence, Irreverence, Faith and Annie

I'm a chaplain -- a prayer chaplain see, and, there's another chaplain (actually there's lots of prayer chaplains but I'm speaking about one in particular) -- she gets to pray about whether or not her group gets to do a second number at The Road To Austin Concert -- she gets stuff like that. Kris Kristofferson decides he should move over for them and the freekin' mayor lifts the curfew so everyone can sing. That's the kind of praying she gets to do.

Me? I get the opportunity to pray over the souls who do funky stuff, like... I dunno, drown. I prayed over the guy who drowned at the lake last month. Not like, RIGHT over him, but a small distance from the search and rescue team. I was thinking to myself on the upper deck of that boat I was on with a group at church... as soon as The Sexy Beast came up to get me, that I was being summoned to pray over this situation that we knew wasn't good news. Now... how is it some folks get the entertainment praying and I get the accidental death praying? Is this like law school? Like I get personal injury and someone else specializes in corporate? What IS that?

I'm just kidding. It's because I'm not so reverent a chaplain. I'm one of the irreverent ones.

One of the dearest and reverent of our chaplains, Annie, recently made her transition, as we say in our faith. I love that phrase so much more than any other for “died.” I won’t go into it here because that’s not what this post is about but to me, “made her transition” is the most accurate, other than “died.” I mean, passed away doesn’t really do it. “We lost her,” is totally inaccurate.

Anyway… she made her transition. She’s been conquering cancer that has been in remission for many years, and this one was quick and she asked us to stop praying for her healing and to pray for her wholeness. That has a totally different meaning.

I visited with her two days before she died. She was in hospice – and was on as much methadone and morphine as is allowable. Still, when her husband uttered my name she looked up, smiled, waved, and zonked right out again. I understand. I’m a recovering alcoholic/addict. It was probably NiiIIIIiiiiIIIice where she was – particularly in comparison to what kind of pain her husband described she was experiencing when she wasn’t on drugs.

I prayed with her anyway, of course. For her wholeness, our connection, her connection, the powerful soul she is and the strong difference she makes and presence she is. For her comfort. For the highest and best vision of her wholeness. It was an extraordinary experience to simply touch her. To be in this presence so peaceful and centered and solid and so between the two worlds was amazing. I didn't want to leave, I felt a little like a thief, staying there, in her presence, just to be a part of that amazing energy.

I was asked to read some letters and poems for her memorial service.

I couldn't be more honored. I can only hope, while everyone else felt I had done a great job of sharing the notes from friends and colleagues, that I did right by Annie. That's most important.