Saturday, May 20, 2023

Gone Home

I was a huge fan of the novel "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott and owned many versions of the story as a child, all with different illustrations.

These next four paragraphs are among my four favorite paragraphs in the entire book because they say so much in beautiful, simple language.


So the spring days came and went, the sky grew clearer, the earth greener, the flowers were up fairly early, and the birds came back in time to say goodbye to Beth, who, like a tired but trustful child, clung to the hands that had led her all her life, as Father and Mother guided her tenderly through the Valley of the Shadow, and gave her up to God.

Seldom except in books do the dying utter memorable words, see visions, or depart with beatified countenances, and those who have sped many parting souls know that to most the end comes as naturally and simply as sleep. As Beth had hoped, the 'tide went out easily', and in the dark hour before dawn, on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath, she quietly drew her last, with no farewell but one loving look, one little sigh.

With tears and prayers and tender hands, Mother and sisters made her ready for the long sleep that pain would never mar again, seeing with grateful eyes the beautiful serenity that soon replaced the pathetic patience that had wrung their hearts so long, and feeling with reverent joy that to their darling death was a benignant angel, not a phantom full of dread.

When morning came, for the first time in many months the fire was out, Jo's place was empty, and the room was very still. But a bird sang blithely on a budding bough, close by, the snowdrops blossomed freshly at the window, and the spring sunshine streamed in like a benediction over the placid face upon the pillow, a face so full of painless peace that those who loved it best smiled through their tears, and thanked God that Beth was well at last.


My second husband Ron battled many challenges in his life and not all of them successfully.

But the most valuable of his accomplishments was bringing his three children and my six together as a single family.

And Ron's success was most apparent in this last week.

He had early onset dementia among other health issues over at least the last fifteen years of his life, and we have painfully witness the effects.

So all of us are rejoicing this morning that Ron is well at last.









4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love you and uncle Ron very much and I’m glad that he is not suffering anymore. Thank you for sharing this. It was very sweet.

Denise M. Baran-Unland said...

You're very welcome! <3

Anonymous said...

Ah, Denise, first your Dad and now Ron. A very sad year for you, though I do understand that death is often a gentle friend who takes us by the hand. I love the analogy between "Little Women" and Ron's death. I'm very sorry for the challenges you've faced so bravely. Rose P.

Denise M. Baran-Unland said...

For Ron, I believe death was a very gentle friend. He spent his last four days at Lightways Hospice and Serious Illness Care in Joliet in a beautiful space surrounded by family and excellent care. Those last few days were probably his most easiest in more than a decade. Thank you for the kind words. <3