Dawn's Notes
Gone From Our Sight - December 2017
by Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW
I cried for joy when I spotted my daughter Misty Elliott and her family at the airport. They all looked very tired—they had been traveling for over 24 hours. But after delays and bad weather, they were finally safe on the ground. They were returning from Wales in the early summer of 2014 after a three-year stint in the UK as missionaries.
We hugged, we cried, we laughed; the grandchildren were so much taller. I had myriads of emotions—joy, relief, gladness, and thankfulness. They were finally back in the United States for a one-year furlough—a day I had eagerly waited for.
Even though we had skyped while they were gone, it was not the same as physically being with them. I had longed to hug the grandkids, to talk to them one-on-one, and catch up on how their lives were going.
Their next twelve months in the States seemed to fly by. Their lives were cram-packed with activities, and our lives were busy as well. The date of their departure was set for the 21st of June, 2015. I dreaded the day when we would again return to the airport, this time to say goodbye.
As June 21st grew nearer, the number of facebook posts to the Elliotts from their friends in Wales grew. There were many messages, such as “We can hardly wait to see you.” “We have missed you so much.”
One post from a young lady in Wales named Hannah Louise said: “A year ago we were on the way to the airport to say goodbye to the Elliott family as they went back to the States. It won’t be long until they come back to Wales. It must so hard having your heart and family in two different places on either side of the world, but know that we are really one family. . . .” Hannah could hardly wait for the return of my daughter and her family.
Here on this side of the Atlantic Ocean, I was sad about their leaving. Yet, on the other side, people were rejoicing that they were about to return to them. The Elliotts had left their fingerprints on the hearts of people in Wales just as they had left their imprint on so many friends and family in the U.S.
The remarks from Wales were reassuring. Even though I knew I could not be with my daughter Misty, son-in-law Bryan, and my four grandchildren in Wales, they would be fine. Those on the other side love them and eagerly awaited their return.
If you have experienced the death of someone you love, perhaps you can see some similarities. No doubt, when your loved one left this earth, you cried while your loved one was gladly welcomed on the Other Side with open arms. You can be assured that your loved one is fine; you are the one who is sad.
A gentleman named Henry van Dyke penned a beautiful poem called “Gone from My Sight,” reassuring writing. Here it is:
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone!”
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side. And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me—not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!” And that is dying…
Especially during the holiday season, many of us shed tears because we miss our loved ones so much. We yearn for the days when they were with us, when we could celebrate holidays “the old way,” however that was.
Even though our loved ones are gone from our sight, they are fine—all is well with them. Your loved one would want you to be okay too. So honor your loved one by taking care of yourself during the upcoming holiday season. May your life be filled with healing and peace.
Call about the next "Living Life after Loss" Group at:
Meadowlark Hospice
709 Liberty, Clay Center, Kansas
(785) 632-2225
Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW, Group Facilitator