Gam
My grandmother died yesterday morning, two days after her 81st birthday.
Gam had been really sick for a while - and though her mind was sharp until almost the very end, her body had failed her. She was wracked with diabetes, emphysema, and myriad other problems that made her tiny frame wither over the last few months.
She had battled in and out of hospitals for the last year - had fallen and shattered her pelvis - had endured hours of physiotherapy to get better...all with the goal of just being able to be at home and sleep in her own bed. That's all she really wanted - to be (and die) in her home.
So on Friday, when the doctor came and told her that she had a serious infection and needed to go to the hospital, she said a simple "no, thank you." Instead, she opted for morphine which would ease the pain. She called her kids (including my dad) and told them that she loved them and that she knew she would go fast now.
On Sunday morning, her two daughters sat with her on her bed, each one holding one of her hands. They told her they loved her and that she didn't have to be afraid...that she was home...and that it was going to be okay. For a brief moment, Gam awakened from her morphine haze, opened her eyes, and focused on her two daughters. Then, she closed her eyes and slowly her breathing stopped, as if she'd fallen asleep.
I only hope that we can all die like she did - with dignity, surrounded by love, in a warm, comfortable bed.
Gam had been really sick for a while - and though her mind was sharp until almost the very end, her body had failed her. She was wracked with diabetes, emphysema, and myriad other problems that made her tiny frame wither over the last few months.
She had battled in and out of hospitals for the last year - had fallen and shattered her pelvis - had endured hours of physiotherapy to get better...all with the goal of just being able to be at home and sleep in her own bed. That's all she really wanted - to be (and die) in her home.
So on Friday, when the doctor came and told her that she had a serious infection and needed to go to the hospital, she said a simple "no, thank you." Instead, she opted for morphine which would ease the pain. She called her kids (including my dad) and told them that she loved them and that she knew she would go fast now.
On Sunday morning, her two daughters sat with her on her bed, each one holding one of her hands. They told her they loved her and that she didn't have to be afraid...that she was home...and that it was going to be okay. For a brief moment, Gam awakened from her morphine haze, opened her eyes, and focused on her two daughters. Then, she closed her eyes and slowly her breathing stopped, as if she'd fallen asleep.
I only hope that we can all die like she did - with dignity, surrounded by love, in a warm, comfortable bed.
posted by GirlRy at 11:29 AM
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