Death. It's this crazy eventuality we all face. I live my days with complete disregard for it. Unless I get on a motorcycle and then it's like we are in a pre-fight stare down.
But it does get us. All of us. We can not avoid it. We can not pick it. Or we aren't supposed to but some of us have or have tried.
I have known for the last ten years my Nanny (you may call her a grandma), has had numbered days. She was diagnosed with emphysema. It's not cureable, just treatable to a certain point to postpone the inevitable. I am the one that primarily takes care of my grandparents, though I am fortunate enough to have an uncle that is local and helps out a ton. Otherwise I may have packed them up and moved them into my house.
Back to my Nanny. This lady is tough as nails. To live with my Papa for 50+ years you would have to be. But I have watched her slowly decide that she is ready. That she is done fighting. Even if I am not. She made the decision to stop taking prednisone. And it's been a quick down hill.
I almost hate calling. Not because I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to face the reality of where she is at. Today I had no choice. And it was worse than I expected. She asked me to come. And I know it's to say goodbye. My heart has me board a midnight flight. My head says stay. I don't think I have had a decision I have ever shed so many tears for. To stay or go. If you had the chance to say goodbye in person, would you?
I'm not sure I can handle it.
But it does get us. All of us. We can not avoid it. We can not pick it. Or we aren't supposed to but some of us have or have tried.
I have known for the last ten years my Nanny (you may call her a grandma), has had numbered days. She was diagnosed with emphysema. It's not cureable, just treatable to a certain point to postpone the inevitable. I am the one that primarily takes care of my grandparents, though I am fortunate enough to have an uncle that is local and helps out a ton. Otherwise I may have packed them up and moved them into my house.
Back to my Nanny. This lady is tough as nails. To live with my Papa for 50+ years you would have to be. But I have watched her slowly decide that she is ready. That she is done fighting. Even if I am not. She made the decision to stop taking prednisone. And it's been a quick down hill.
I almost hate calling. Not because I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to face the reality of where she is at. Today I had no choice. And it was worse than I expected. She asked me to come. And I know it's to say goodbye. My heart has me board a midnight flight. My head says stay. I don't think I have had a decision I have ever shed so many tears for. To stay or go. If you had the chance to say goodbye in person, would you?
I'm not sure I can handle it.
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