A river is the common metaphor for time. Time only flows forward, never backwards. Time moves constantly and takes anything along for the ride. The question then is are we moving through time or are we the agents of movement? Do we move time forward by our decisions or is time just rapidly moving ever forward, sweeping us in it?
Upon seeing the words “The First Christmas” your mind is probably conjuring images of Mary and baby Jesus and the shepherds. The imagery is iconic, isn’t it? Whether the result of a careful reading of Luke 2, or exposure to nativity sets of all kinds, pretty much everyone knows what is meant by “The First Christmas.”
By the time I reached my mother, she was nearly unresponsive. She would open her eyes when I spoke but then they immediately rolled back into her head. The nurses said it was the morphine. Supposedly she could still hear me.
Once she was unresponsive, she did not eat or drink. There were no feeding tubes as this was hospice and, well, she was there to die.
Parker Palmer, in his book Hidden Wholeness, says that part of being with someone who is dying is to sit quietly with their soul. Sitting quietly maintains respect for the person as God’s creation and child. Forcing an agenda, one’s own inquisitiveness, or desire for amends is to violate the sacredness of the person in their most sacred time.