my mam and her brother sat with nana over her last night. she was asleep most of the time, though she would ocassionally rouse and they'd ask if she wanted a cup of tea. but she would drift off. then, about half six in the morning, she shuffled a bit in her bed, settled back, then let out an almost satisfied sigh, and settled back. they looked, and mam said "aw. she's gone." mam smiles, the sound she made was just as she used to when humming away to herself while dusting and was satisfied she'd finished.
the last breath, the pneuma, the breath of life. i'm not sure i could be there. i'd... it's not scared. it's.. well, she's not there anymore. all that she was is gone, however unfathomable and inexpliccable it is. what is left is a relic, a reminder, something precious that belonged to her. we're left with a lot of things, clothes, pictures, furniture, personals. and a body. we cremate or bury. it remains hers, even after she's gone. we look after it and return it to the elements, earth or fire.
i dunno. i'm rambling. i'm still trying to come to terms with losing our nana. it's things that my head is swimming in.
all i know is that all she was is now with us. *hugs* xx
I understand what you mean about the last breath, i find it incomprehensible. Its too much for my tiny human mind to process, i suppose that is also why you and i struggle so much with the curtain moment in the crematorium. The idea that the physical matter that was home to such a significant person in your life is soon to be ash, well it just does not compute.
My grandad had his wife, four of his five children and four of ten grandchildren by his bedside when he passed. I was home looking after my brother, i am undecided whether i am glad i wasnt there. My nan described his last moments to me - his breathing and how shallow it became - and it blew my mind, im not sure i could ever handle seeing that but god knows im fascinated by it.
Grandad is being buried by the way. Ive only been to one burial and for me it felt much more natural. It didnt feel like the end because we could go back the next day and know she was only a few feet away in the ground. Irrational but comforting.
i can't express it better, with better weight and more emotion and more eloquence than one of my heroes (all my heroes, not that i believe in the notion.. ok, much respected figures, are old or dead men) Arthur Miller. this is from "the atheism tapes", a series he was interviewed for. http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=qndtG-g1fvA&feature=PlayList&p=240DBA7810282B91&index=0 from 3mins 33 to about 5min50. but the rest is quite amusing/good.
it always gets me, his tone of voice, at 6mins, where he says, "no, this is beyond me..." all that intellect, all the brilliance and creativity of one such as Miller, to hear him say that with that feeling in his voice... that's what I have. xxx
oh, and my mam asked the crematorium in Acklam. normally, they scatter the ashes in the garden of rememberance in date order. there's a section for each month. but mam asked if they could scatter her ashes where Grandad's were, back in January 1992. and they said yes. that felt good.
she was asleep most of the time, though she would ocassionally rouse and they'd ask if she wanted a cup of tea. but she would drift off.
then, about half six in the morning, she shuffled a bit in her bed, settled back, then let out an almost satisfied sigh, and settled back. they looked, and mam said "aw. she's gone."
mam smiles, the sound she made was just as she used to when humming away to herself while dusting and was satisfied she'd finished.
the last breath, the pneuma, the breath of life.
i'm not sure i could be there. i'd... it's not scared.
it's.. well, she's not there anymore. all that she was is gone, however unfathomable and inexpliccable it is. what is left is a relic, a reminder, something precious that belonged to her. we're left with a lot of things, clothes, pictures, furniture, personals. and a body. we cremate or bury. it remains hers, even after she's gone. we look after it and return it to the elements, earth or fire.
i dunno. i'm rambling. i'm still trying to come to terms with losing our nana. it's things that my head is swimming in.
all i know is that all she was is now with us.
*hugs*
xx
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My grandad had his wife, four of his five children and four of ten grandchildren by his bedside when he passed. I was home looking after my brother, i am undecided whether i am glad i wasnt there. My nan described his last moments to me - his breathing and how shallow it became - and it blew my mind, im not sure i could ever handle seeing that but god knows im fascinated by it.
Grandad is being buried by the way. Ive only been to one burial and for me it felt much more natural. It didnt feel like the end because we could go back the next day and know she was only a few feet away in the ground. Irrational but comforting.
Reply
with better weight and more emotion and more eloquence than one of my heroes (all my heroes, not that i believe in the notion.. ok, much respected figures, are old or dead men) Arthur Miller.
this is from "the atheism tapes", a series he was interviewed for.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=qndtG-g1fvA&feature=PlayList&p=240DBA7810282B91&index=0
from 3mins 33 to about 5min50. but the rest is quite amusing/good.
it always gets me, his tone of voice, at 6mins, where he says,
"no, this is beyond me..."
all that intellect, all the brilliance and creativity of one such as Miller, to hear him say that with that feeling in his voice... that's what I have. xxx
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