#SongoftheDay All My Relations (JB The First Lady)
I can't remember if I ever told you about being with my grandmother when she died. I'm thinking about it because I just finished watching a documentary about people's experiences as they approach death.
When my grandmother was taken off food and water, it wasn't long before she stopped speaking. Sometimes she opened her eyes, but even then she didn't seem particularly aware of what was going on around her, or who was in the room. I spent days by her side, reading or knitting or talking with my aunts.
One day, the woman who shared my grandmother's hospital room told us that, even though my grandmother no longer spoke during the daytime, at night (when this lady was trying to sleep), my grandmother spoke nonstop. She repeated the same six names again and again: that of her father, her mother, her sister, her brothers, and her own name as well.
Apparently a lot of people have dreams or visions of deceased relatives before they pass, and these experiences most often bring a huge sense of comfort that they will be taken care of by these family members when they die. I wonder if that was my grandmother's experience, too. I'd like to think so.
In case I haven't mentioned it before, at the moment my grandmother died, I was sitting in a chair beside her hospital bed and looking at a picture taken in the 1930s--of my grandma, her sister, and her father. She adored her father, who died in the 1950s, and I was thinking how happy she would be to see him again. I was hoping she'd get to see him again.
That's when my aunt announced that my grandmother had stopped breathing.
I feel fortunate that I got to be there when she died. It was a significant moment in my life. It wasn't scary. It wasn't anything, really. She was alive and then she wasn't. My grandmother made dying look easy, and I hope--for her sake--that it was.
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Giselle
