End days..

I stare at her lying in the bed .  Oxygen hooked up and cannula placed in her nose.  Cath bag hanging from the side of the bed.  Her grey white hair straighter then I have ever noticed it.  The strands are thin but its depth is thick .. much like mine.. She smiles.. 

Ittie approaches the bed.. "Careful of those tubes Ittie.. don't step on them OK" .. escapes my throat in the most controlled voice I can muster..  I am looking at my hero.. and now I must be brave.. I know what my role is .."Why mama?" Ittie states with the innocent pondering look.  "Because if you step on them you could hurt Grandma.. they are attached to her" .. "Oh" is my answer and Ittie proceeds with caution but love.  

"OH it IS Avery.".. my grandma exclaims.. Ittie's head is over the side rail as she says hi and reaches out.  "You yelled at me the last two times I appeared with out her, think I was going to do that again. I do listen you know.." leaves my mouth with a hint of playfulness and a smirk across my lips.  For a moment its just us.. as it has always been a playful exchange.  

Ittie curiously looks around.. answers the questions about school, shows Grandma the new puppy,.. and then as normal for a girl her age squirms and starts looking uncomfortable...She journey's to the other room.  Hell I am uncomfortable.  Its hard to see Mary Myers frail.. vulnerable... bed ridden.. She is an icon of my life.. I remind my self of the normalcy of this .. a life long lived.  My duty to my grandmother.. and then the tears come.. She looks me in the eye and pats my hand...  I fight to hold back the flood I feel.. I am now the 7 year  old.. 12 .. 15 .. 21  27... and again she consoles my aching heart as always.. I play with her hair.. It's really the only thing I can do.. I am honest in my tears .. but I am disappointed in myself  for not being STRONG .. funny.. but I was honest.. 

I grieve .. yes my grandmother is alive and I am thankful.. thankful for the time we have.. the moment .. the love.. but I also grieve for the loss.. the loss of her freedom.. some of her sharpness... and if I am truly honest the loss of the image I have always had of her.   I grieve what I know is the road to come.. The hardships.. My heart and shoulders are heavy and sink... but this can only last for a little bit.. I look back to her.  

She fades from the present for a moment.. She looks at me.. and says .." that was?".. pointing to the direction that Avery left.. She is going through the names silently.. Grandma is doing her best to try to mouth which one of us she thinks visited..   "Avery, grandma.. that was Avery.. "     "Oh" slips out in a exasperated sigh.. She is looking tired.  Then with a quick return to present.. "what are you doing with another dog?"   I smile and laugh thankful for the gift of presence... "the dog found us.. and did you see the wee ones face.. do you want to tell her we shouldn't have it?"  .. She looks at me with a look of usual suspicion that is questioning my true motives.. "I guess not"  with as much of a haughty laugh she can handle.  

She is looking tired again.. She looks from the TV to me.. and her eyes dull.. her lids start to close.. I call Ittie in and lift her up to kiss grandma..  Itties voice rings true.. "I love you grandma"  .." I love you too my dear " is Mary's return..   I look her in the eye.. again I am now the 7 year old..  and state with an innocence and honesty straight from my soul " I love you grandma.. "   her answer.." I love you to my dear.."

I cling to that sound.. those words.. her image of love for me ..The wonderful gift of her being and the 39 years I have had to spend hearing her reprimand, banter.. love.. console.. Sharing  the woman who she was and is  .. I am lucky to share time with her in her end days be it  a few days  of a few months or years..