[Oe List ...] Jesse Clements Journeying On

[James Wiegel]

 A fine fine letter from a fine man.  Almost impossible to believe my life has been graced with such people, and such families, but it is true, so true . . .
And a great closing song . . .

Jim Wiegel



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--- On Thu, 2/23/12, Lynda Cock <llc860 at triad.rr.com> wrote:

From: Lynda Cock <llc860 at triad.rr.com>
Subject: [Oe List ...] Jesse Clements Journeying On
To: "'Order Ecumenical Community'" <oe at wedgeblade.net>
Date: Thursday, February 23, 2012, 1:16 PM



 
 

In a response to a 
note I sent Molly, she asked me to post this to the OE 
list.    I found an obituary online under Kalamazoo, 
MI.  With this family, we celebrate a profound life of service and 
care.  Lynda  
 
 Please post it on the OE 
serve list, if it hasn't been there. as I don't have the list on my 
computer.  Thanks.

Dear Family and Friends,

On Tuesday, 
January 31st, the home Hospice nurse told us that the doctor asked us to call 
whatever family would want to come and have last words with Jesse.  Anne, 
the nurse, said that it was most probably a matter of hours.  Peter and his 
son, Porter, had just been here for the weekend and were enroute home.  At 
the call they came back here from Chicago instead of getting on the plane bound 
for New York and home.  They were soon joined by Peter's wife Maria and 
daughter, Amelia.  Crispin and her family, husband Reg and daughters 
Marilyn and Michelle, arrived from Edmonton the following day.  Two of my 
brothers arrived shortly--Johnnie from  Washington state and Dick from 
Texas.  Two of Jesse's nieces came, Rachel from Boulder where she was 
temporarily working and Karen from Houston.  Paul and Aedin were here, of 
course, as was Claire and her family, and Anna and Bridin came from Ann Arbor 
and New York. There was singing of hymns and songs we've enjoyed from childhood 
on through the years, Bible reading, poems, and the sharing of stories and 
memories.  Of course, Jesse did what nurse Anne came to call "a Jesse 
thing" --he rallied, then rallied more with the infusion of family 
spirit.

He was still bed-ridden, still weak, still taking morphine for 
pain regularly.  He spoke haltingly in a weak voice, but there were times, 
such as the following Sunday evening when Claire and her six, Kriya, Amani, 
Muhammad, Isa, Cheyenne and Tara, gathered around the bedside for touching 
moments of quiet reflection and the words Jesse needed to say to each of 
them.  Athere were other moments when Jesse would have been silent and 
seemingly out of it for a period then come up with a rather pithy statement, 
such as "There is a word for when you can't remember but I can't remember what 
it is."Or he would share on the telephone, such as with grand-nephew Ian, "I 
seem to be half and half in a dream state and a reality state."  Another 
day:  "the problem of the global geo-thermal reality is that which doesn't 
help my brother, doesn't help me."  Nurse Ann remarked that she had never 
seen one so ill able to analyze and articulate at this level 
before.

Well, the sinking into near death state and emergence from it 
happened several times.

Then came Thursday, February 16th.  Chest 
congestion worsened and a cough became constant.  Breathing was very 
shallow with frequent and increasing apnea.His heart rate had been over 100 for 
about two weeks, sometimes way above 100.  Nurse Ann helped us with a new 
med and the regulating of others, we got more pillows behind him until he was in 
a sitting position.  The cough came under control, but he was inert.  
He was peaceful now, with no sign of pain.  In the evening the family again 
had prayers together,  singing of hymns and ICA and family songs, readings 
of scripture-- all pretty quietly and somberly done.  At 11 pm Paul and 
Claire went to their homes, Karen and Dick to their bedrooms.  I lay beside 
him with Crispin at the bedside.  Crispin left to get her bedclothes on and 
I dozed.  I awoke about five minutes later, immediately checking to see if 
he were breathing.  He was not.

Jesse's death was shortly before 
midnight, Thursday, February 16th, grandson Isa's birthday.

Without the 
help of Crispin, John and Dick, together at times and individally at others, 
with me in turning Jesse, assisting  when he was determined to get out of 
bed when he was physically incapable even of sitting up alone, it would have 
been impossible to have realized Jesse's dream of remaining at home until the 
end.  Claire and Paul also played critical roles enabling this.  We 
didn't know until it was happening and the  help all came together that it 
would be possible.  Jesse had the idea on Peter's first visit to install a 
door bell near his bed to be rung for the night help that I required.  
Peter installed it and answered those calls whenever he was here.  How can 
anyone thank another adequately for such ministry?  Loving friends have 
provided meals along the way so that we could all focus on Jesse and his 
care.  Numbers of people have come to visit with Jesse or to simply sit by 
his bedside and hold his hand.  I have felt we have been wrapped in God's 
care.

You are part of this beloved community.  You have supported us 
in so many ways.  We are so very grateful.  I thank God for 
you.

About six weeks ago Jesse wrote this letter, with help from each of 
his daughers.  It is a touching tribute to me that I share with you because 
he wished it to be so.  It follows this note.

Grace and Peace and 
Gratitude,

Mollie

P.S.  The memorial service to celebrate 
Jesse's life and death will be held at First United Methodist Church of 
Kalamazoo, 212 South Park Street, Kalamazoo on February 29 at 11 a.m., followed 
by a gathering for light lunch and sharing in the fellowship hall.

If 
anyone should wish to make a memorial gift, the following have been 
chosen:
First United Methodist Church of Kalamazoo; Center for 
Transformation, Attention Andrew Lehman, 1315 Grand Avenue, Kalamazoo MI 49006 
and Hospice Care of Southwest Michigan, 222 N. Kalamazoo Mall, Suite 100, 
Kalamazoo MI 49007

1-18-2012

My Community of Family and 
Friends,

       Mollie has greeted me of a 
morning with a smile, a touch, a kiss.  She's looked at the bed where I 
have been lying most of the last 34 months and immediately begun to straighten 
or untangle the covers.  She could tell at a glance if I was too hot or 
uncovered somewhere.  "Do you want this cover off?  Do you want a 
drink?"  "Yes," I croaked.
       She has 
lifted a glass of cool water and placed a straw to my lips.  With my throat 
moistened I could now swallow the 30 mg morphine tablet Mollie dropped in my 
mouth to stop the chest pain without fear of it sticking to the side of my 
throat, refusing to move up or down like a leech in the jungle of 
Mindinao.
       If I'd had a night sweat 
Mollie took off my long sleeve cotton shirt, sponged, dried and powdered my back 
and put on a fresh shirt.  I felt like a new man.  Now-a-days these 
kinds of experiences bring back to memory an old love song sung by Dolores Keane 
that has become more and more dear to 
us:
       Have I told you lately that I love 
you?
       Have I told you there's no one 
above you?
       You fill my heart with 
gladness, take away all my sadness
       Ease 
my troubles, that's what you do.

       Oh, 
the morning sun in all it's glory
       Greets 
the day with hope and comfort too
       You 
fill my life with laughter, you can make it 
better
       Ease my troubles that's what you 
do

       There's a love that's 
divine
       It's yours and it's 
mine
       Like the sun at the end of the 
day
       We should give thanks and 
pray
       To the One, to the One, to the 
One

       Sometimes closeness is 
manifested in more distant ways.  Mollie was driving alone on the other 
side of town and she passed our favorite used furniture store.  We liked to 
pop in because many of our trreasures come from these places.  She spotted 
a little bed side table that was 20" x 24" on the top, the perfect height for me 
to reach my essentials.  It was not only slightly larger and more stable 
than the table I had been using, but it also had a drawer and a shelf under 
that.  The drawer was on ball bearings.  To cap it all, this fine 
little piece of furniture was made in Vietnam of hard wood, with a fine mahogany 
finish on it.  Every time I touch or look at that table I am again grateful 
to Mollie for selecting something so beautiful and 
functional.
       During the past few years, 
my physical world has been reduced to a smaller and smaller orb.  First it 
was to the city and the surrounding lakes, then it was to the house and our 
yard.  With a cane or the walker I could navigate from one end to the other 
of our ranch style house.  Next I cut off the small office on the west end 
of the house where my computer sits with it's arms embracing 2853 unopened 
emails.  That left my easy chair in the sunroom where we receive medical 
personnel and visit with friends.  The last line of defense in this Alamo 
is our bedroom where I hold court from a double bed enhanced by the handsome all 
purpose table Mollie delivered to my 
bedside.
       Say, have I told you lately 
that I love you?
       Have I told you there's 
no one above you?
       You fill my heart with 
gladness, take away all my sadness
       Ease 
my troubles that's what you do.

>From 
Jesse



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