I Need Your Prayers
Posted on November 8th, 2013
I need you to pray for Stella right now. I don’t care what language or faith you pray in, I need your prayers.
But before you respond. Before you “like” or tell me you are on it, I need you to hear something.
There’s a catch. A very difficult catch.
I do not want you to pray for Stella’s life any more.
Stella cannot sit up in bed. She does not make any sense when she wakes up. She becomes angry and agitated. Her body is a battleground of ports and catheters and morphine patches and scars. She has not eaten in a week and her bones show through. She has no control over her body. Every two or three hours I have to give her an injection. Doesn’t matter if its two in the morning or ten at night. I haven’t had a night’s sleep in……. I don’t know.
This is no way to live. For either of us.
The last coherent thing she was able to say was devastating. She looked at me with pleading eyes and and said “Please. Don’t talk any more. Don’t touch me. Please help me die.”
My heart is torn in shreds. She has gotten so much morphine in the last forty hours that there is no way she should continue waking up. But she does. And she cries. And begs that this be over.
And the only explanation I can think of is that the very strength that has enabled her to survive for so long against impossible odds and still enjoy a quality of life is now working against her. The prayers from all over the world, that have sustained her, are now counter-productive. Her time has come (much as this breaks my heart, shatters my heart, drives me insane to write this. Even now, the tears drop on to my keyboard.)
And so now I ask all of you who have been so sincerely praying for Stella, to change your prayers.
Please pray that the suffering end. That she can finally rest in peace. That she can leave this world and go back to heaven, which is where my angel came from. Yes, pray that God take her and do so now. We can’t go on like this.
I have known Stella for almost thirty years. She was my best friend. Then my wife. Then the mother of my children. There’s not a decision that I did not seek her advice on. She has never asked me for anything. No jewelry, clothing, vacations, cars, birthday or anniversary presents, etc.) Nothing. Until now.
And it’s the one thing I don’t think I can do.
I am told that there is a Gemerah (Katubos) that tells a story of the death of Rabbi Yehuda, a great sage of ancient times. He was quite sick and his students were praying non-stop that he not die. A servant dropped a dish on the floor that shattered and for a moment broke the concentration of those praying. At that moment his soul ascended to heaven.
I am not at the edge of the cliff, I have fallen over it. But I can’t land. I know it will hurt like crazy when I do, but I also know I can’t keep falling forever.
Please forgive me for asking this.
I want everyone to remember Stella like this picture. Not like she is now.
Yarden Frankl, Neve Daniel
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