My mother and I sat on either side of my Grandmother's bed, drinking red wine out of plastic stem glasses. It was odd, as if the three of us were hanging out together, though my Grandmother was still unconscious. A multitude of family members visited my Grandmother that evening and later, it was just my mom and me again. The T.V. flickered through the night as we watched over her. Donald Trump appeared over and over on the news shows as they all rehashed the same stupid things he had said that day. I fell asleep a couple of times, only to wake and see my mom sitting across the room, eyes open, T.V. lights flickering on her face. At times my Grandmother's breathing would become shallow and I would feel startled, but then she would breath deeply again.
The hospice nurses visited routinely throughout the night to shift my Grandmother in her bed. When they tried to give her morphine, she pursed her lips and made raspberry noises at them. It made me giggle. She looked like a soft, defiant little baby hell raiser, not like my Grandmother.
In the morning, family members relieved us and my mom and I went back to my uncle's to sleep for a couple of hours. Clancy, the beautiful Irish Setter that I had been dying to meet, growled and barked at me again, and then ran and hid under the kitchen table.
"Wow," my uncle commented, "he only acts like that with the mailman."
I fired off some more lesson plans and checked my work email. A snippy one sat there from one of my bosses, instructing me to re-submit a sub request "ASAP" because I had used the wrong reason code for it.
"Thanks," I thought "definitely the first thing on my mind." I emailed my other boss telling him that there was no way I was going to make it to work Thursday. It was Wednesday morning. When I didn't receive a response, I called him.
"Put in for a sub for Thursday and Friday," he instructed "I am not sure how many days you can take for bereavement, but mark it bereavement." I did as instructed and laid down to sleep. I could hear the click click click of Clancy's toenails and occasionally opened my eyes to find his face inches from mine, staring at me.
We got up a couple of hours later and went out. I bought some treats to bribe Clancy and we visited the hospice again. My Grandmother laid peacefully in her bed. My aunt and uncle that had spent the day with my Grandmother told us the nurses' latest reports of signs of imminent death. The night crew arrived and we readied ourselves to leave.
"If, you know, the nurses say they think it's happening, should I call you?" my Uncle Dick asked my mother.
"It probably won't be that way....." my mom responded.
"But if it does, should I call?" he repeated.
"Yes."
My mom and I returned to my uncle's house. Clancy was happy with me now that he had his chicken jerky and actually let me pet him. He rubbed against my legs as I fed him piece after piece. My aunt and uncle opened a bottle of wine and we sat around talking. The mood was actually festive, we looked at old pictures, talked about travels and laughed. It was very natural and relaxed. It felt like being at a party with people you really wanted to talk to, not relatives you hadn't seen in a long time. One conversation spiraled into another with talks of my mom and uncle's childhood, the wonders of France and Spain, how silly dogs are yet how much they mean in our lives.
The phone rang.
"It's happening" my uncle announced quickly, grabbing his keys as we all rushed to the cars and raced toward the hospice.
She was going.
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