My nana (grandmother on my mom's side) died this Friday.
I was never particularly close to her, as I'm not particularly close to many people in my family. I haven't cried about it (yet?). That does make me feel a little bit strange, but there are also some explanations for that. If I have grandchildren, I hope they would cry for me. We'll see.
Apparently Uncle Bill predicted that she would die on Good Friday. Not only did that come true, but her death occurred between noon and 3PM, which are supposed to be the holiest hours of that day. I'm not religious, and this doesn't change that, but it's definitely an interesting coincidence.
My mom said that the nurse who was taking care of her, a guy whose name she told me but now I forget, knew that she would die that day. Mom also said that she had a feeling and made sure to get to the hospital earlier than usual. The nurse told her, after she had died, that there's a process called mottling (knees, feet, and some other places turn bluish-purple) which is nearly a sure signal that death is coming within a day and that he had noticed it earlier on nana's knees and feet. That seems so strange to me, but I've looked it up, and apparently mottling is part of what's referring to as "active dying." Everything else that's involved with it seems scary to me. But everything about death is scary to me.
Nana had been quite sick for a long time. I think it was in the fall of 2009 that she had her first/major stroke. She was about 88 years old at that time, and everyone had themselves convinced that this would probably be the end for her (or that it would come very, very quickly). She moved out of her retirement community and into assisted living. Weeks become months, and then eventually those became years, and she kept on fighting it.
She was definitely not herself after that, though. She voted in 2008 and had opinions on Barack Obama and Sarah Palin and John McCain (she was a lifelong Democrat, but didn't trust Obama, but ended up voting for him because she couldn't stand the idea of "that woman" being in the White House). After her stroke, she lost a lot of her awareness. She would sometimes think that my mom -- who was probably the closest family member to her for many, many years -- was Nancy, my mom's sister who died around 1996. Sometimes she thought that it was the 1960s or 1970s. Like many old people, she began to complain that people were stealing things from her. She stopped doing her puzzles.
She eventually started saying that she wanted to die. It was very, very sad.
I believe that old people who are in a situation like hers do want honestly to die, even ones who may not have full awareness. It's not like they think it's a good choice, but I'm sure they still have the ability to realize it's not going to get better, and it will just be painful until it ends, so why not do that now? But there's a lot of shame about wanting to end your life in our culture, not to mention in Catholicism, and nana had always been a very devout Catholic.
Mom said that nana was pretty peaceful during her last few days, but that on Good Friday, that changed. She seemed to be anxious and yelling (kind of), indicating the pain she was in. They gave her pain medication to try to calm her down, and tried some other things too, but nothing worked. They thought that maybe her position was getting tiresome, and that maybe they should move her to a chair and have her stop laying down. So they picked her up and tried to transfer her to a chair, but it seems like that was extremely traumatic for her. Her eyes went wide, and she became unresponsive. She was still breathing. My mom held her. Her eyes closed. She stopped breathing and won't start again.
My mom thinks that nana realized she was going to die that day, too, and then realized also that she wanted to keep on living. I don't know if that's true, but I guess it certainly could be possible. I could easily imagine myself being in constant pain and claiming that I want to die, but could I pull that trigger? I seriously doubt that. Maybe that'd be different if I believed in God.
Sometimes all the anxiety that people have around death makes me wonder if anyone actually believes in God. They say there are no atheists in fox holes, but I think the truth is that there are actually no deists who are actively dying. You know the blackness is coming and you will do anything to stop it.
I do feel disappointed with myself that I was never close to her. I was here for almost the whole last year and saw her, I think, just once. It's easy to just say that we're all going to die and we won't remember then anyway, so who cares? But of course that means that the only thing that could possibly have meaning is what you do before someone dies. I never found it very easy to talk to her, but I think that seeing her could have made her happy. Maybe that's worth beating myself up about a little bit.
Anyway, I just hope that she's not hurting anymore.
Peace out.
I was never particularly close to her, as I'm not particularly close to many people in my family. I haven't cried about it (yet?). That does make me feel a little bit strange, but there are also some explanations for that. If I have grandchildren, I hope they would cry for me. We'll see.
Apparently Uncle Bill predicted that she would die on Good Friday. Not only did that come true, but her death occurred between noon and 3PM, which are supposed to be the holiest hours of that day. I'm not religious, and this doesn't change that, but it's definitely an interesting coincidence.
My mom said that the nurse who was taking care of her, a guy whose name she told me but now I forget, knew that she would die that day. Mom also said that she had a feeling and made sure to get to the hospital earlier than usual. The nurse told her, after she had died, that there's a process called mottling (knees, feet, and some other places turn bluish-purple) which is nearly a sure signal that death is coming within a day and that he had noticed it earlier on nana's knees and feet. That seems so strange to me, but I've looked it up, and apparently mottling is part of what's referring to as "active dying." Everything else that's involved with it seems scary to me. But everything about death is scary to me.
Nana had been quite sick for a long time. I think it was in the fall of 2009 that she had her first/major stroke. She was about 88 years old at that time, and everyone had themselves convinced that this would probably be the end for her (or that it would come very, very quickly). She moved out of her retirement community and into assisted living. Weeks become months, and then eventually those became years, and she kept on fighting it.
She was definitely not herself after that, though. She voted in 2008 and had opinions on Barack Obama and Sarah Palin and John McCain (she was a lifelong Democrat, but didn't trust Obama, but ended up voting for him because she couldn't stand the idea of "that woman" being in the White House). After her stroke, she lost a lot of her awareness. She would sometimes think that my mom -- who was probably the closest family member to her for many, many years -- was Nancy, my mom's sister who died around 1996. Sometimes she thought that it was the 1960s or 1970s. Like many old people, she began to complain that people were stealing things from her. She stopped doing her puzzles.
She eventually started saying that she wanted to die. It was very, very sad.
I believe that old people who are in a situation like hers do want honestly to die, even ones who may not have full awareness. It's not like they think it's a good choice, but I'm sure they still have the ability to realize it's not going to get better, and it will just be painful until it ends, so why not do that now? But there's a lot of shame about wanting to end your life in our culture, not to mention in Catholicism, and nana had always been a very devout Catholic.
Mom said that nana was pretty peaceful during her last few days, but that on Good Friday, that changed. She seemed to be anxious and yelling (kind of), indicating the pain she was in. They gave her pain medication to try to calm her down, and tried some other things too, but nothing worked. They thought that maybe her position was getting tiresome, and that maybe they should move her to a chair and have her stop laying down. So they picked her up and tried to transfer her to a chair, but it seems like that was extremely traumatic for her. Her eyes went wide, and she became unresponsive. She was still breathing. My mom held her. Her eyes closed. She stopped breathing and won't start again.
My mom thinks that nana realized she was going to die that day, too, and then realized also that she wanted to keep on living. I don't know if that's true, but I guess it certainly could be possible. I could easily imagine myself being in constant pain and claiming that I want to die, but could I pull that trigger? I seriously doubt that. Maybe that'd be different if I believed in God.
Sometimes all the anxiety that people have around death makes me wonder if anyone actually believes in God. They say there are no atheists in fox holes, but I think the truth is that there are actually no deists who are actively dying. You know the blackness is coming and you will do anything to stop it.
I do feel disappointed with myself that I was never close to her. I was here for almost the whole last year and saw her, I think, just once. It's easy to just say that we're all going to die and we won't remember then anyway, so who cares? But of course that means that the only thing that could possibly have meaning is what you do before someone dies. I never found it very easy to talk to her, but I think that seeing her could have made her happy. Maybe that's worth beating myself up about a little bit.
Anyway, I just hope that she's not hurting anymore.
Peace out.
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