Creating Hope

I was given 7 pairs of scissors, donated fabric, and tape. With this, I was to impact human suffering at the end of life, while protecting the love and innocence of my girls. By tuning in for a moment to the reality of the end of life, it’s impossible not to feel the grief, the fear, the uncertainty. These feelings are not only for the person in transition, but also for the entire family. It’s as if our elders were standing in line, waiting for their pass to cross the rainbow bridge.

Settling into the idea that we did not need to have all of the answers, we held a container of love and began to create. Led on a song journey by an amazing ukulele player, beautiful songs wove the fabric of our blankets as we cut away the old. We cut the threads of fear. We cut the threads of sadness and despair. Music wove through our circle like a living basket; a basket that carries only special things carefully chosen for a specific purpose.

In our basket, we placed love, peace, and thoughts of ease and comfort into a blanket that would carry all of these special things to the elder whose tired body would be held and supported. Together we sang, “I behold you beautiful one…” each time our fingers pressed on the scissors was a conscious act, pushing away all things that are not needed for the person that would be wrapped in this blanket. Over and over, we thought of the support we had when we were born, when we entered this life. We had mothers, maybe doctors, midwives and fathers present to support our entrance. We now were breathing songs into our blankets for hospice patients of love and support. Our sole wish was that their exit to whatever place personal to each of us in our hearts, could be just as beautiful, just as loving, just as supportive as the entrance.

These girls were used to learning to let go of things. Many of them had lost their homes in the recent lava flow. Some had to leave without their belongings, including their bicycles. We were the Rising Up Girls. We met weekly to find meaning in life, to make beautiful things that made us feel alive, and to ride bicycles through the forest and remember feeling free. Every week, we could ride with the wind on our faces and laugh and create. We’d create for the joy of learning that life is what we make of it, that hard times are like the climb up the hill, and without that climb, there would be no downhill ride.

Today was different, today was a higher level. Today, our project would ripple like waves in the ocean to spread love to our community. The cutting of the fabric took time. Cutting around the entire surface of the blanket severed all of the threads of despair completely, it had to be perfect. It allowed our elders to climb the hill of sadness, so they were poised at the top, ready for their downhill ride. When the cutting was complete, we tied each of the strands together, imagining a beautiful downhill ride in their passage. The words of our song we perfect, “Let my love wash over you. Let my love watch over you.”

The songs ended as our final ties in the blanket embedded our love with our final spoken words from each of the girls. Holding hands, we placed the blankets in the center, and each spoke our words over all of them.

“May you be surrounded in love.”

“May you enjoy your beautiful journey.”

“May you be filled with peace.”

“May your light shine strong.”

"May you have no fear, only love.”

After the blankets were collected to be delivered to our elders in hospice care, the girls hopped on their bikes and rode to the top of the Kalani hill. They laughed and talked about silly things, climbing the hill of troubles like they had done so many times before. But this week was different, because they were not thinking of their own troubles on that hill, they were Rising Up to stand strong on the hill of troubles for others who needed them. It gave a whole new meaning and purpose to that climb. Light fractured through the trees all around them as they paused at the top for a photo. Captured in the photo was a rainbow, like the rainbow bridge, surrounding the girls. It’s almost as if the girls had entered an imaginary world where they stood on that bridge, bringing love and support during the most vulnerable time in the lives of their elders, the transition at the end.

It’s one thing to climb your own hills. It’s another altogether to climb with another; to accompany them and stand strong because you know you can, because you’ve learned to climb that hill. It is amazing what can happen when we create, when we take the storylines of our lives and our hands, and a pair of scissors and some fabric, to write a new story. It even seemed like the ride down that day was sweeter. The wind was more invigorating as we, the Rising Up Girls, rode up the hill of challenge to create peace for our elders while we stood in love under the rainbow, as they awaited the rainbow bridge.