My grandmother is dying tonight. She probably won’t still be with us by this time tomorrow evening. She’s 92, and she’s had a full and wonderful life, although in the past 24 months or so, her body suddenly failed her. She’s been waiting to move on to the next place for a while now, and tonight or tomorrow, she will get her wish. She is at home, surrounded by love.
Two weeks ago, when 4 month old G was visiting her 92 year old great-grandmother, I noticed how peaceful the two of them seemed together. G is a new arrival on earth, still acclimating to where she’s landed, while my grandmother on that day was in the early stages of the transition she is to experience today or tomorrow. The two of them – women in the same family separated by nearly a century in age – are really just brushing past one another in passing, but they seemed to have a mutual, unspoken understanding of how similar their shared transition period is – of how they are both kind of in the same place for the moment – even if they are each headed in a different direction.
I am so glad that my grandmother had the chance to meet her youngest (and almost certainly last) great grandchild.
Goodnight my beloved Grandma. Thank you for rocking and singing me to sleep when I was a baby myself. Thank you for helping me learn to be a mother. I love you.
Less than an hour after I wrote this post and hit “publish” tonight, my grandmother passed away.
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