Grandpa ....

This is a short excerpt from my 'work in progress'... Chapters of Goodbyes ... stories of my experiences while I was a Hospice nurse.

The old man lay in the unfamiliar hospital bed, restless, but too weak to move about much. His young granddaughter and her husband stood at the door of the cluttered bedroom, frightened at what they were witnessing. Grandpa was close to death; his breathing was shallow, his vital signs declining. It had been a long night for the granddaughter, much like checking on a sick child, she had risen numerous times to see how he was doing. Actually, she feared that she would find that he had died between her visits and then she was, also, weary when she found him still comatose and struggling for every breath. I arrived early that morning following her anxious call that he was dying and she needed help.

There wasn't much a person could do to change what was happening. His skin was clammy, the sheets damp and rumpled, so I suggested we bathe and change the linen. She was too exhausted from the long night, so I sent her into another room to rest as I went about bathing the old man. The tepid water seemed to relax his facial muscles, the lotion massaged ever so gently into the rough elbows and hands. I cleansed his mouth, brushed the ill-fitting dentures and slicked back the thinning hair. He moaned slightly as I gently turned him from his back, massaging his bony spine and placing clean sheets under him. As I finished putting a clean hospital gown on him, I was surprised to find him looking at me, his brown eyes, so clear, staring intensely at me. He smiled and his body relaxed. I finished picking up the linen as the granddaughter came into the room. She was moved by the transformation, her grandfather looked peaceful, comfortable for the first time in a long while.

As we chatted about continuing medications, comfort measures, and the like, her grandfather suddenly bolted upright in the bed, his hands clutching the bed rails. His eyes wide, his arms outstretched, he called " Mama, Mama, here I am!!" His eyes filled with tears, spilling down his sunken cheeks, his smile almost silly in its wide spread over his face. He muttered some unintelligible words, as we stood silently at the foot of the bed, then once again, with a loud, clear, almost youthful voice he again called " I'm here, Mama, oh, Mama."

He slumped back onto the pillow, eyes closed, barely breathing. In less than an hour, I would pronounce the old man dead. The granddaughter and I waited for the funeral home to come. She asked if what we had seen had really happened, did he see his long deceased mother, was he only talking out of his head, does this happen often, was it real? I could not answer all the questions; I could only tell her that I had witnessed others seemingly talking to their departed loved ones. I told her that I preferred to call them "Guardian Angels" and I believed that the dying often 'see' or feel the presence of these deceased loved ones. I also believe it is comforting to know that some one we love is waiting for us, to help us cross over to the other side. The granddaughter leaned over the lifeless body of her dear grandfather, kissing him gently on his cheek, she whispered, " I'll be seeing you, Grandpa".