Final Words
I was the last person to see my grandmother alive.
She should have died a decade earlier - the stroke that debilitated her had been massive, the worst her doctors had ever seen anyone survive - but my dad had been just down the block, and the medical professionals had no idea which old lady they were dealing with. My grandmother was a woman to be reckoned with, a force of nature. Death would have to work to take her.
I hadn't seen much of her the years she was in the home - my mother and my sister had been to visit her much more often than me, and my grandmother had my brother's number on speed dial, so she had visitors and people to talk to on a regular basis. Just not me - I was busy with my life, such as it was. She'd been in the hospital before, so I wasn't worried... at least, not until my mother started to worry... then something told me I needed to stop what I was doing and go see my grandmother.
I told everybody in the office I was sorry, I knew we were brutally busy, but I had to go for a long lunch - I clocked off and drove like a bat out of hell East to the hospital. As soon as I walked into her room in the ICU, I knew my grandmother wouldn't be leaving still drawing breath.
I don't know if she knew I was there. Sometimes, one eye would open and try to fixate on me... sometimes one eye would look up to the ceiling and walls while I stood in front of her bed, listening to the machine that was forcing air into her lungs. All I did know is that this would be my last chance to talk to her.
"I love you. I love that you were always there. My life is filled with memories of you always being there. It's okay if you're tired. It's okay if you want to rest. I'm here, and I promise you I'll look after them."
I don't know if she heard me. I do she she closed her eye and became still.
I stayed a few minutes longer, then I drove back to work - the next day, she was gone.
I wish my mother had made it back to see her mother just one more time. I wish my sister had made it back to see her grandmother just one more time. I wish someone who had made more of an effort to still be a part of my grandmother's life had been to see her just one more time - she deserved better than me, I didn't deserve to be that last sight. It's been nearly a decade since she left us, and I still hate it was me.
I just hope that if I was the last person she heard, I at least said the right thing.
She should have died a decade earlier - the stroke that debilitated her had been massive, the worst her doctors had ever seen anyone survive - but my dad had been just down the block, and the medical professionals had no idea which old lady they were dealing with. My grandmother was a woman to be reckoned with, a force of nature. Death would have to work to take her.
I hadn't seen much of her the years she was in the home - my mother and my sister had been to visit her much more often than me, and my grandmother had my brother's number on speed dial, so she had visitors and people to talk to on a regular basis. Just not me - I was busy with my life, such as it was. She'd been in the hospital before, so I wasn't worried... at least, not until my mother started to worry... then something told me I needed to stop what I was doing and go see my grandmother.
I told everybody in the office I was sorry, I knew we were brutally busy, but I had to go for a long lunch - I clocked off and drove like a bat out of hell East to the hospital. As soon as I walked into her room in the ICU, I knew my grandmother wouldn't be leaving still drawing breath.
I don't know if she knew I was there. Sometimes, one eye would open and try to fixate on me... sometimes one eye would look up to the ceiling and walls while I stood in front of her bed, listening to the machine that was forcing air into her lungs. All I did know is that this would be my last chance to talk to her.
"I love you. I love that you were always there. My life is filled with memories of you always being there. It's okay if you're tired. It's okay if you want to rest. I'm here, and I promise you I'll look after them."
I don't know if she heard me. I do she she closed her eye and became still.
I stayed a few minutes longer, then I drove back to work - the next day, she was gone.
I wish my mother had made it back to see her mother just one more time. I wish my sister had made it back to see her grandmother just one more time. I wish someone who had made more of an effort to still be a part of my grandmother's life had been to see her just one more time - she deserved better than me, I didn't deserve to be that last sight. It's been nearly a decade since she left us, and I still hate it was me.
I just hope that if I was the last person she heard, I at least said the right thing.