I am Wingman.
Some of you know that my friend is batteling terminal cancer. She has no family and I go to as many appts as I can. Upon her diagnosis I started to search around and reading shared experiences of loved ones losing loved ones. For some reason it never occurred to me that I would bear witness to it myself. Stupid girl.
My grandmother is 98. She is remarkable and we are close. Her health, mental and physical has been near perfect. She walks with a walker at times- still reads the paper and lives as you and I.
Last Thursday she fell suddenly ill in the middle of dinner. Today is Tuesday and the palliative doctor just left.
I know, 98 right. Had to have seen that coming- and yet I am blindsided. Iive 2.5 hours away and have been back and forth, for some reason needing to be part of this process. With all I have read and understood, I was, I am, not prepared.
I have shared little of the details with my terminal I'll friend back home. She asks a bit and while we have been very communicative regarding her cancer I cannot share my experiences. There have been positive moments with grandma- precious and treasured, and there have been remarkable and haunting moments.
I am watching her die. For all I have read I have been profoundly amazed at what instead I now see.
The restlessness, the comfort, the communication, the rosary.
I have brought music to her room, I have gathered treasure from her these last few days.
The doctor has just been in and I feel something official in that for unexplained reason. I suppose we all need validation to the things we know but at the same time gaze right through.
The family has a schedule for every 24 hours, she has not been alone for an instant nor will she.
And so I suppose I will start the drive home and continue to pray for her peace.
WM