turps

Nanna isn't doing well at the moment.

Om Friday night Pauline phoned and said my uncle had phoned her and said he'd asked the medical staff, and they said nanna had back slid again and her death was imminent. As an aside, all along my uncle has only communicated with Pauline who's then been left to give any information to me and my brother. I get that it's easier to only talk to one person, but it's putting a load on her shoulders, especially as it's the anniversary for dad in a week or so. Plus, once he found out nanna was so sick he said he wasn't going to go in and see her any more and that the hospital shouldn't call him when her time was near as he wasn't going to go in, he just wanted a call the next day. I'm trying not to judge that, as people deal in their own way, but I'm finding it hard not to do so.

Yesterday I went in with my brother to say our goodbyes. She'd been moved to a private room, and it was sunny, the curtains fully open and she was tucked up in bed, and looked both awful and peaceful. It's a stupid description, but I can't make a better one. She was shrunken, gasping for breath, mouth open, no teeth in, eyes half open and so obviously gone in mind, just not body. And that was horrible, but she wasn't attached to any medical equipment, and looked comfortable despite the other things.

We held her hand, kissed her, said goodbye and to say hello to dad and granddad, and I know she'd have hated to go in a home. I know this is for the best because her mind was starting to go, and she always said that would have been the worst thing that could happen to her. But it's nanna you know? She was supposed to live forever.

Now it's a game of waiting. When it happens the hospital will call my uncle, and he'll call Pauline and she'll call me.

ETA: I got a call and she's gone.

Nanna Rosie, I love you so so much.