måndag 23 januari 2012

magic monday

i know that you would think that last week wasn´t a whole lot of magic, with my grandmother passing away. but it all got me thinking about those support words i added to my 2012 word. this post will be based on some of those words.

we gathered around my grandmothers hospital bed for 3 days. cousins, children, grandchildren...we quietly sat around following the slow-pace that was her room. from monday to tuesday she got dramatically worse and we had to embrace the fact that we had strted a big wait, the wait for her last breath. on tuesday evening i had a feeling and decided to stay the night and after a pretty scary episode that night she finally could breath a bit better and we both slept for about 2 hours. i woke up to her not breathing. she started again pretty soon, but the nurses told me to phone the others. again we gathered around her. she went in and out of breathing all day long and it was all exhausting. i almost didn´t leave her side for 20 hours and at one time it almost felt like a delivery. you know a long, long delivery, but not where you can ask for a c-section!
it was a balance between me wishing she would just go, because i knew it would be best for her, and just feeling heartbroken about her struggle. after a long day as we huddled around her petting her cheek, hair and arm she took her last breath. it might sound very harse or strange, but when i realized she wasn´t going to breath again, i kissed her forehead, said i love you and goodnight and said to myself: i am done here.
i had given my full attention both physically and emotionally to this woman that desperatly needed me and now she didn´t anymore. after hugging my mom, i stepped out of the room, quietly walked out of the ward, sat on the floor and cried. 
and as i write this and as i have reflected before, i do see magic in these days; a long talk i had with her on monday afternoon, being there with her when she had a terrible time tuesday night, as she said to me in a daze don´t go anywhere. and mostly the magic of being there for her, making her more comfortable by adding oxygen, meds or even just turning her in bed. the magic of all of us huddeling around the woman that had loved us so much. it was magic that she didn´t pass before my grandfather got there an hour earlier. for me it was magical to nurse her as she had nursed me so many times when i was a child.
it might sound crazy, but it was magic.

1 kommentar:

  1. I know the "magic" of which you speak. Six years ago I held my mom's hand too as she took her last breath. From the time she was taken off life support til 9 1/2 hours later when she finally took her last breath, I felt those moments of magic, of knowing I was with her until the very end as she had always been there for me.