The most unwanted of guests...

I feel strange...

Over the years I have seen different types of death and all the pains involved in my direct surroundings: all kinds of horrible cancers, heroin overdose, fatal strokes, and others... Never will I forget the first time I saw a dead person, but these days it is different, very much closer to my skin, saddening, but oddly enough not scary, and yet somehow deeply fascinating.

For about 2 years I have been taking care of my Danish grandmother, as I have written about before. In the last 6 months things have been going really fast though: every day I have seen something else slip through her fingers and not see her be able to recover that skill or possibility. For 2 years I was afraid of waking up and see her lying on the floor, but thank God that didn't happen... and somehow we managed.

Last Wednesday however broke my heart. I have seen her in different conditions, but when visiting her in the elderly home the sight of that little, frail & old woman having deteriorated that far was just too much. I could hardly utter a word and basically just sat holding her hand as tears welled up in my eyes. I was just all choked up.
And yet, she was smiling, simply for the fact I was there, and words were hardly even necessary.

And again, the last week things have moved along fast... and it is now only a matter of days or hours even.

Why is all this fascinating? (not sure it is a good word in this case, but I'll stick to it)
From very close I am witnessing this proud human being slip away physically and mentally, and getting ready to knock on the Pearly Gates.
I don't know if I can explain well, but it's fascinating as it is following in some way a very 'predictable' path, as opposed to some quite sudden deaths previously.
Fascinating as I am sitting there holding her hand, and she tries to show her love through half-closed eyes, and gentle squeezes with her hand, hardly any energy left in them...
Fascinating as it is incredible how strong the human spirit is. There she is, skin over bone, not able to eat or drink, and still trying to keep some dignity. And at the same time making that (for me inpossible now to imagine) step of accepting that it will be over soon... Not just accepting it, but saying it as well.
It's hard to comprehend the courage, strength, and strongness of heart it requires to utter those words. It's not despair, but a long hard stare at a new reality.

And at the same time, for all the love I have for her, I hope she will find peace soon...

When travelling to France those few weeks ago I bought some new books to read (adding to the pile of half-read books I am working on already) and one of the books is a lovely collection of short stories by Paulo Coelho, called 'Like the flowing river'. One of the stories contains a part which I will quote here, as it bears the above in mind, and takes the sadness death brings and changes into a point of departure for learning and living:

"We are all walking towards death, but we never know when death will touch us and its our duty, therefore to look around us, to be graceful for every minute. But we should also be grateful to death, because it makes us think about the importance of each decision we take, or fail to take; it makes us stop doing anything that keeps us stuck in the category of the 'living dead' and instead, urges us to risk everything, to bet everything on those things we always dreamed of doing, because, whether we like it or not, the angel of death is waiting for us".

(21/6: little update & small additions)