Today, I sat in a hospital room, much like the one I sat in nearly 6 years ago. The woman I sat with today is older than the one I sat with then. She's not fighting the same disease the other faught, unsuccessfully. As I sat there, I felt the same overwhelming feeling of helplessness I felt then. As I watched her labored breathing, I felt my chest tighten in sympathy, but knew there was nothing I could do to change it. I felt guilty all over again.
As I watched my grandmother lying in the hospital bed today, I was forced to accept that she is no longer my young, vibrant partner in crime. Somehow when I wasn't looking, she became an old woman. Today, I watched her receiving blood that her body can no longer make. I watched her struggle to sit up in bed. No more sneaking off to go shopping while Grandpa is away fishing. No more playing the grandma card to get me out of trouble with my parents. Instead, I combed her hair because she couldn't do it herself.
In my mind, I wandered back to the room of another hospital I sat in almost 6 years ago now. It's become as familiar to me as the room I now sit in, so often I have revisited it. Then, I sat by the bed of another woman dearly beloved, daughter of my grandmother, mother of me. That day I was so full of hope. She was to come home that day. Fate had other plans. I wouldn't trade that last day that I had sitting alone with her - she napping, I reading. Occasionally, she would awaken and we would chat about nothing. Once she opened her eyes and unexpectedly said, "I'm so proud of you." I will carry that moment with me forever. So many years I had longed to hear her say that, had tried in so many ways to gain that stamp of approval. But even that moment was not to last. Within a few hours she was unconscious, never to open her eyes again. Instead of coming home that day, she went home.
As I came back to the present, I had to fight the urge to try to fix things. There's nothing to be done...not by me. The most I can do is sit with her and love her and make sure I say all the things that need to be said so that I don't live the rest of my life wishing I had said them. The rest I must leave to the doctors and God. How hard it is to give up control! But the more I think about it, the more I realize, I never really had the control I thought I did. I couldn't fix it then, and I can't fix it now. And so I decide today to not feel guilty for things I can't change. I will do my best to do my part and trust God to do His, and hope that this chapter of my story has a happier ending.
As I watched my grandmother lying in the hospital bed today, I was forced to accept that she is no longer my young, vibrant partner in crime. Somehow when I wasn't looking, she became an old woman. Today, I watched her receiving blood that her body can no longer make. I watched her struggle to sit up in bed. No more sneaking off to go shopping while Grandpa is away fishing. No more playing the grandma card to get me out of trouble with my parents. Instead, I combed her hair because she couldn't do it herself.
In my mind, I wandered back to the room of another hospital I sat in almost 6 years ago now. It's become as familiar to me as the room I now sit in, so often I have revisited it. Then, I sat by the bed of another woman dearly beloved, daughter of my grandmother, mother of me. That day I was so full of hope. She was to come home that day. Fate had other plans. I wouldn't trade that last day that I had sitting alone with her - she napping, I reading. Occasionally, she would awaken and we would chat about nothing. Once she opened her eyes and unexpectedly said, "I'm so proud of you." I will carry that moment with me forever. So many years I had longed to hear her say that, had tried in so many ways to gain that stamp of approval. But even that moment was not to last. Within a few hours she was unconscious, never to open her eyes again. Instead of coming home that day, she went home.
As I came back to the present, I had to fight the urge to try to fix things. There's nothing to be done...not by me. The most I can do is sit with her and love her and make sure I say all the things that need to be said so that I don't live the rest of my life wishing I had said them. The rest I must leave to the doctors and God. How hard it is to give up control! But the more I think about it, the more I realize, I never really had the control I thought I did. I couldn't fix it then, and I can't fix it now. And so I decide today to not feel guilty for things I can't change. I will do my best to do my part and trust God to do His, and hope that this chapter of my story has a happier ending.
I know exactly how you feel. I just went through this with my Grandma. I'm praying for you! May God ease your pain and help you through this difficult time.
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