[Oe List ...] Jesse Clements Journeying On
Joan
jfknutson at aol.com
Sun Feb 26 00:30:21 EST 2012
I never worked with or lived with the Clements. I don't remember even being in a meeting with Jesse or Molly. But they are my colleagues in the task we took on ourselves. I am very grateful for this listserv for the opportunity to learn about these friends through the memories and experiences, to hear about their special qualities and remind ourselves what a fantastic bunch of nobodies we are and were. In gratitude for this special sharing. Joan Knutson
-----Original Message-----
From: James Wiegel <jfwiegel at yahoo.com>
To: Order Ecumenical Community <oe at wedgeblade.net>
Sent: Thu, Feb 23, 2012 7:34 pm
Subject: Re: [Oe List ...] Jesse Clements Journeying On
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
Many have tried to define creativity, to quantify and qualify it . . . Some say it involves imagination; Whatever your definition of creativity or the creative process, marvelous creations abound to improve our lives and inspire us Kaneko Center
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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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