Sweet dreams

And so it happened. One of the infinite tragedies of life.

It's with great sadness to have to tell my dear and lovely grandmother has passed away last evening in the grand age of 94.

She was literally at the end of the line, and died gracefully, with a smile, and without any fear.

The last 6 months have been very tough as I have written about here before, as she simply 'faded' more and more quickly. The last 1,5 weeks hardly anything was left of her, but I know for sure her last days have been some very happy ones.
She had the closest family around: children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She passed away peacefully and with a smile, and the last words I have heard her say were:
"I just feel so happy".

Those words, and that is how I will remember her... always friendly, dignified and with a smile of love for her close ones.

(August 1949, with Vivi (my mother) and the eldest: Kjeld)

And, whether a coincidence or not, she passed away on the day that would have been her 67th wedding anniversary.
For all that it's worth -I am neither religious or really spiritual (I hate all that flaky & fake new-age-crap) - but I am actually sure she has re-found her place on the side of her beloved husband.
She knew that wedding day was approaching, since we told her and everything just 'fitted' perfectly.
We had been there all day yesterday, caring for her, and yet she waited, dignified as she is, with closing her eyes for the last time, until after we had gone.

...On the table lay a newspaper my uncle had brought, folded by coincidence (??) so only 2 words from the frontpage were visible: "Sand kærlighed" (true love). And that is what she had and showed for sure...

(2 parents, beaming with pride and happiness, at my parents' wedding, in august 1967)

Well, for me a very long, emotional and difficult period in my life has come to a close now, but can only say I am happy I could be there for her; taking care of her for 2 years. I will miss her dearly!

With sadness, but looking forward to a great summer and with great friends visiting over the next months... (and for some close friends: new little loved ones coming soon...!). I wish I could be there!! :)

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)