My Uncle’s Last Words

In my yoga class this weekend, the teacher’s message was to create space that allows for surrender. Her words hung in my mind, bringing me back to one of the most powerful examples of surrender that I know. (Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of blood).

My uncle died just under a year ago. He had fought lung cancer for years and had a tumor pressing on his esophagus. After having just spent a few weeks in the hospital, he was feeling better and discharged. But the next morning he began experiencing hallucinations so his wife and daughter took him to the ER.

After going through triage and just settling into his room, he suddenly began to vomit up blood. Not just a little blood — volumes. My aunt ran out of the room to find a nurse. 

And this is the part that will haunt me for the rest of my life: my uncle looked at his daughter and asked "What do I do?"

Sadly, there was nothing he or anyone could do. The tumor had burst through his esophagus. He died within minutes due to the blood blocking his airway.

In his most vulnerable moment, my uncle's orientation was, naturally, to do something. I imagine he felt so helpless. He had no choice but to surrender, as we all will. Yet, minutes from his death, he asked the question of what to do, grasping at some sense of agency over what was happening to him.

If I can take some learning from this story into my day-to-day life, it's that I, too, am sometimes helpless and unable to control what is happening. The human tendency inside of us to do, fix, and control, will one day be overpowered by our finitude. Can I surrender that tendency today to connect more deeply with my essence?

Create the space that allows for surrender.