on death and dying

on friday october 5th at 6:23 in the morning i watched my nana glo take her last breath.

the days leading up to it were a blur of doctors and diagnosis.  some days were not so bad.  we even thought she was getting better.  and it was so quick its hard to get here. 

in the end it was hospital acquired pneumonia that finally got her. 

tough as she was.

and she fought it.  until she didn't.  and one late night when it was just me and her in the hospital room
i held her hand and told her, no one, not even her daughter, would be mad if she felt it was her time to go.

no one wants to see someone else suffer for them.

and when she was ready she told us.  and she whispered to each of us a little something - praising the ways we would carry her "Sargent" genes on for her.  and she was herself til the end.

she voted for obama from her icu bed.

she made us be silent for the presidential debate.

she came back to her home and pet her cat one last time and danced with her face to a favorite song.  she was agitated at times, talking fast, not wanting to leave anything undone, she wanted no messes when she was finally to go.  and we listened to her still.  all her wisdom.  all the same.

and she talked of compost, and energy and scooping things up.

and we fed her morphine on the hour - afraid every time that we would be the one to give the dose that killed her, and we itched her back and rubbed lotion in her hands and joe sang her "there were bells on a hill but i never heard them ringing no i never heard them at all til there was you"... and she mouthed the words, moved her head, and let the moment count for everything.

and we filled her house.  cousins and her children, spouses and in-laws, sleeping sitting up in chairs, sprawled on the floor on pillows and under tables.   i have never seen my big noisy family sit is such silence for so long.

when her mouth filled with foam we did our best to clean it.  when she opened her eyes we played vivaldi so she wouldn't feel any fear.  my father held his hands on hers willing her to let go with peace.

at 6:23 am a subtle change shifted across her face and we watched her take her last breath just after her lips turned a soft shade of blue and the light of the day made it's way through the windows.

the crows started their call.  family members were woken.  her children reaching for her.  tears and text messages.  so shocking is death even when it is most expected.  how quickly she left once it was time.

and still we sat.  my dad still holding her hand.  again silence.  one family staying with her in that room.  giving her the peace and the space to move on.  no one moving until the hospice nurse came to tell us it was time.

our nana glo was more than just a beautiful woman.  more than just a wife, just a mother, just a feminist, just a liberal.  she was the driving force behind an entire family.  generations of children have grown to be strong adults because of who she was. 

she faced her death with a courage i hope to have in my life. 

and i will miss takling to her about the latest book she has read or the last thing we both watched on pbs.  i will miss her puns and her npr commentaries.  i will miss talking about the latest art exhibits at the mfa, her advice for my garden or when she would give us green beans fresh from her garden.  i will miss those quiet moments in the end when she let me brush her hair.

and there are so many things i still need to ask her.

but i feel lucky to have grown up in such a strong and loving family.  rooted on our family street by her home, her heart, her sunday night dinners.  and i am thankful that nana glo let us be part of her death as she was such a huge part of our lives.

 as Nana Glo's last act she taught us all not only how to live but also how to die.