Well it has been one week since my grandmother passed away. It is crazy how the world fills in around the people when they go. I have a sense of procrastination about not going to visit her. It is hard to believe after so many years of various struggles that it can end. It seemed that that state was perpetual.

My mom and I stayed with her on the night before she died until about 2 in the morning. I think we both planned on staying all night but as the night passed, she was stable and resting relatively comfortably so we decided to go home and sleep for a few hours, recharging our batteries for the next day that we anticipated. It is funny, because I remember the trip back to my house is a weird sleepy stupor. I remember parts of the trip like I was driving even though we were in a cab, but also remember that the cab driver was a very abrupt and crazy driver. Both mom and I fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow, despite expecting exhausted layers of insomnia. At 4:48, Ken, my grandmother’s nurse called. She had just passed away. I called another cab, this one less rabid, and got dressed. We were there within 15 minutes.

I had never seen a dead person before. Or touched one.

The last time I saw her alive, her laboured breathing was shallow, and she was not able to respond to anything in the room. The silence in her room at 5 am was very strange. The room’s light flickered with light from her neighbours muted TV tuned to the home shopping network. She was still comfortably tucked into her bed, eye’s closed. Her hands and face were still very warm. Her colour had not changed much, which surprised me. It was definitely different than sleeping. I think it was the stillness. She was beautiful and scary at the same time.

I really value that last hour or so that we were able to spend with her, after she had gone. It was still early, so there were not many staff or people in the halls, giving us privacy and a lending a sense of the sacred to this time spent in a public place.

I am also very thankful for the time grandma and I spent together on the last day of her life. I talked to her about the great memories that I would keep close to my heart, share with my friends, and hopefully share with my children. I asked her for a few favours for myself and friends. A bit odd, and I felt weird asking, but I felt like she was close to having better insight than I have into “the big picture” so who better to ask? And weirdly, parts of my life related to my inquiry have started to change, not significantly, but more change than I have seen in a while. I have a good friend that I asked her to check on too, and there have been a few stirrings in that direction as well, though resolution on all fronts is still beyond the horizon.
I left my grandmother for a few hours on Halloween, to hand out candy, and have some supper. A good friend supplied the ride and the dinner as well as some good rejuvenating conversation. But before I left she kissed me good-bye. I had to ask her a few times, but she puckered her lips and pressed them to my cheek, wish I had placed close-by. When I returned later than evening she was no longer responsive. I wondered if I should have stayed, but that good-bye, potentially not possible an hour later, was such a gift that I know it happened for a reason.

After the funeral home came, and Mom and I made up her bed and tidied her room. Then we went and enjoyed a lovely breakfast at the Hotel Regina, I had Tea and hot chocolate. It was weird to be in public. It was weird to feel okay, sad but okay. I felt like it should have been obvious that we had just been sitting with the dead, that somehow the world should smell different, feel different.

But it was the same.