Danny’s an old man now.
In his old age
Danny has shrunk a wee bit,
stooped a wee bit
and his flaming red hair has,
at long last,
turned sandy and grey.

Danny is dying of cancer.

Danny’s an intelligent man.
He worked out for himself
the various ways
that cancer might take him.
And when nurses revealed to the family
how the end might come for Danny,
the entire family was shocked …
… apart from Danny.

Danny predicted the news
and Danny accepted that news
some time ago
in silence.

Danny lives each day
at peace in himself
and in a quiet acceptance
that right now,
death is simply a part of his life.
Danny shrugs his shoulders
and quietly gets on
with the day to day business
of living.

I can see
that an important part
of Danny’s life
is the way in which
he faces death.

I can see
that Danny is old,
slightly stooped
and turning grey
but when I look at Danny
through eyes of faith,
I see that Danny is really
a giant among men.

© Claire Murray, 11th October 2013

Lord,
as I walk to work
I have in my mind
this picture of you
like Roald Dahl’s Big Friendly Giant,
the BFG,
carrying Danny
carefully, tenderly,
lovingly and protectingly
in your hands,
close to your heart.

I have a sense that, in his illness,
Danny is living his life
in the presence of Death
but in the company of God.

I’m puzzled.

You carry Danny
with such love and tenderness now,
in his illness
and I wonder
when the time comes
for Danny to die
will you have to walk away from him,
leaving him to face Death
without you?

Then in my mind’s eye
I see that, when that time comes,
you will continue to carry Danny
close to your heart
as Death approaches.
Then, holding Danny tenderly,
you will open your hands,
just a little,
so that Death can juke in
and see Danny,
who is so precious to you.
Death will whisper Danny’s name
and Danny will close his eyes
for the last time,
safe in your loving hands.

At his death,
as in life,
you will not walk away from Danny;
you will carry him.

© Claire Murray, 2nd October 2013

There’s been a sudden flurry of activity
at Danny and Dolores’s house –
nurses and doctors coming and going,
discussions going on,
action plans being drawn up,
phone numbers being exchanged,
supplies being bought in,
just in case.

Procedures are being put in place
in case Danny takes ill
suddenly.
These plans are meticulous,
immensely practical
and chilling to hear.
These plans are essential
just in case.

I feel as if, right now,
I live in the company of Death
and I suspect
that other members of the family
feel the same.

But not Danny!

Through all of this,
Danny greets us with a smile
and I get the distinct impression
that Danny looks Death in the eye,
smiles and says,
“Sure never worry about that fella there yet.
He won’t come before his time
and it’s not his time yet!”

These past few days
I have felt a sense
of dread and apprehension
as I live
in the company of Death
while Danny
on the other hand lives,
at peace,
in the company of His God.

In the meantime,
the flurry of activity continues
just in case.

© Claire Murray, 29th September 2013

Lord,
today Danny insisted
that he had to tidy out the garage.
When asked “Why?”
Danny replied,
“I want to do it
while I still can.”

Danny’s tumour is growing bigger.
Danny’s pain is growing stronger.
Danny is growing thinner.
Danny is growing more tired.

Danny is getting ready to go.

Lord,
bless Dolores and Paul
who have to watch Danny suffer
each day
and help all of us to enjoy
the precious gift of Danny’s life
while we still have it.

But most of all, Lord,
bless Danny
as he prepares,
in his own quiet way,
to meet you
face to face
when his time comes.

© Claire Murray, 18th September 2013

Lord,
just before a baby is born
an expectant mother often goes
on an extensive tidying spree,
cleaning the entire house
and making sure that everything is ready
for new arrival.
People call this “nesting”.

I’m aware that these days,
Danny is busy organising
wee chores about his house.
I see new skirting boards being fitted,
doors and locks being replaced,
the garage being tidied
and I think to myself,
“Danny’s nesting”.

Except,
Danny’s not preparing for a new arrival;
he’s preparing for his own departure.

Lord,
be with Danny
as he prepares quietly
and without a fuss
for a death
that he has accepted.

Stay with him, Lord
and give him a sense
of your loving, comforting presence
as he goes about “nesting” in his own house
and prepares
to enter yours.

© Claire Murray, 7th September 2013

Lord,
yesterday Danny’s dressing came undone
and I caught a glimpse
of a tumour,
that is red and angry.
It’s growing.

Yet, in that same instant,
I saw Danny smiling,
a man at peace with himself
who has come to terms
with an illness
that is slowly but surely
taking his life.

I can see your work there, Lord.
You have given Danny
and all of us
tremendous gifts –
the gift of acceptance
and the precious gift of time.

Lord,
stay with Danny, Dolores and Paul
as they face up to Danny’s illness.
Continue to walk with them
on their difficult journey.

© Claire Murray, 19th August 2013

Lord,
this afternoon the oncologist told Danny
that Danny’s cancer has returned
and that nothing further can be done.
The oncologist shook Danny’s hand,
wished him good luck
and said, “Goodbye”.

We are devastated.

This evening
I enter the chapel at Carraigart
and kneel in the presence
of the Blessed Sacrament.
By the altar
I see a huge, wooden cross.
As I look at you, Lord,
stretched out on that cross
I realise that there is no need for me
to try to describe suffering
to you.
You know all about
the terror of facing what must be.
You know all about
the feeling of helplessness
as you watch the suffering
of those closest to you.
Without me having to tell you,
you know exactly
how Danny, Dolores and Paul feel
right now
in their own personal
Agony in the Garden.

In my mind’s eye
I see myself once more
as your wee girl
and I clamber up
onto your knee,
snuggling in close to you.
“Look after Danny“, I whisper.
“Help Danny to deal with this
and when the time comes,
don’t let him be afraid.”

I feel your arms tighten around me
and I hear you say,
“Claire,
I’ll not leave Danny’s side,
not even for one second.
I’ll be with Danny
and Dolores
and Paul
every step of the way.
I have loved Danny
since before the creation of the world.
I’ll look after Danny for you.
Trust me.”

And in the peace and silence
of the chapel at Carraigart
I kneel
and I find comfort
in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

© Claire Murray, 9th July 2013

My God is tall and strong.
Usually he walks taking great strides
but today
My God is treading carefully,
his hands cupped together
in front of his chest,
gently carrying something
that is clearly precious to him.

He steps carefully
so as not to disturb
the cherished bundle
that he keeps
close to his heart.

I look closer,
trying to see what My God is carrying
with such tenderness.

It’s Danny.

My God is carrying Danny
with care,
with love,
protecting him,
keeping him safe.

This illness is not something
that Danny has to endure alone.
My God is with Danny
every step of the way,
carrying him.

Danny is safe
in the loving hands of My God.

© Claire Murray

Lord,
today I bring before you Danny.

Please give Danny
as much time as he needs,
time to spend alone,
time to spend with you,
and time to spend with us.
Please give us the grace
to enjoy this precious time
before you call Danny
to yourself.

Please heal Danny
in those aspects of himself
where he most needs it.
Give to all of us
the strength and faith that we need
to face what lies ahead.

Draw Danny to yourself, Lord.
Put your arms around him
and hold him close.
Give to Danny
the precious gift
of your peace.

© Claire Murray, 4th July 2012