Family Understands Process of Dying

As you know from yesterday's post, my grandmother, who lives with my parents, fell in the kitchen and broke her hip and arm on Friday, November 7. I headed for Atlanta that same day. At 92 and facing surgery, I wasn’t sure I would see Nanny alive again, but as it turned out, she did fine with the surgery to repair her hip. She was released the following Wednesday and I continued to stay to help my mom care for her mom. Nanny went back into the hospital by ambulance the following Wednesday because her oxygen level was low. An x-ray revealed pneumonia in her left lung. I think she is ready to depart for the spirit world so she will be there when her daughter, Kathryn, arrives. My aunt, “Kat” as we call her, is in hospice care for terminal cancer. However, both of these strong-bodied and determined women are doing well at the moment, for which I am very thankful. I hate for anyone to suffer. 

You might think all this trauma would make us sad, but the truth is my family does not view death as a tragic thing. Dying is as natural as being born because both are part of the never-ending life cycle.  

With my grandmother having five kids who produced twelve grandkids, twenty-seven great-grandkids, ten great-great-grandkids and two more on the way, it doesn’t take long to fill the house on any given holiday. Any time my folks get together, there is going to be a lot of love and laughter. In fact, we had a dorm party in the hospital room while awaiting Nanny to return from surgery. Starbuck's coffee was used as a replacement for the keg of beer typically used in a college dorm party.

I dearly love my aunt Kat. She and I have agreed upon a sign that she will give me to let me know what it’s like for her once she reaches the other side. I fully expect she will visit me. My other "deceased" (that word really doesn't mean "dead"; it just means they are no longer in a human body) family members have.

When sleeping in Nanny’s bed while she was at the hospital, I sensed a spirit presence in her bedroom. Since Nanny and I have both communicated several times with Pap (her husband) and Edmond (her son) after they passed, I expected the presence was probably one of them.

“Is that you, Edmond?”

BAM! The picture that was hanging over the bed where I was resting slid down the wall and stood upright behind the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I suppose you want to know why I’m in Nanny’s bed?” I explained to him what had happened and his presence immediately left. I figured he went to look for her at Northside Hospital. I hope he knows about the new branch that has been built at Forsythe county since he departed. I suppose souls have pretty good GPS.

Over the next few posts, I’ll share some of the things that have transpired in the past few weeks or months as I deal with what seems to be a preparation for departure of my loved ones from their physical bodies.