Monday, August 18, 2014


Yer, i know, a four letter word. Have been thinking about four letter words.

And yep, especially since the demise of Robin Williams. Not least because the name 'Williams' belongs to my mother's family (no blood relation). Apparently my grandfather Williams (on Mother's side)
 "Never gave up - or 'in'".

Yep, they have all, now, "exited stage left". My mother didn't go 'quietly', but needs some information as to why i write that. She held onto her arrogant assumption that she could 'remain in control' for eternity, until age 89. Then, oops, more parts of her body began to fail, collapse. She went into hospital with multiple organ failure.

I was with her then, and myself and cousin had to make some decisions. There was a discussion with the surgeon. He told us that yes, they could repair her heart valve but ....

Decision time. Do we say yes, or no. First time that self had been specifically confronted with a decision that meant life - or death. The surgeon told us that she would not survive major heart surgery.  If i had said no surgery; let her go - she would have died that night.

My cousin was looking at me, and i was looking at him. We couldn't make that decision. So, the surgeon said, ok, wait for an hour or so. he went somewhere, consulted, came back and told us - ok, we can put in a 'stent', no guarantees. We agreed. That happened.

 Dunno, now, whether that was the best decision. My mother remained in a coma, in intensive care, for six weeks. There was always, in my mind "hope" that she would 'return', talk to me - but it was not the case.

And yep, to be honest, would turn up at her bedside every now and then, thump her shoulder; tell her "Oy, yer not allowed to go out on an odd number. Try to get to 90". But she never listened to me.

the hospital called me in, one Saturday morning. Told me that she was 'very close', but knew what that meant.
Was holding her hand when she expired for the last time.
 (inspiration- expiration, breathing).

The nurses told me that they called her 'the walker'. Even in a coma, she couldn't keep her legs still. Nobody knows where she was walking to.

And no, there were no "heavenly choirs" when she breathed her last. No "mysterious emanations" hovering around the ceiling. She was. simply. dead.

Dunno where i'll be when it happens. Hopefully won't leave too much of a mess.

Hopefully, each evening, when my days chores are done, i curl up into the warmth of the bedding, and a dog curls in beside me ... there will be a sunrise that kisses my eyelids a few hours later.

1 comment:

Vest said...

I shudder in fear of the unexpected. my sights are set on a further distance in time and the next hurdle is 89.
The more the pleasures of the body
fade away, the grater to me is the pleasure and charm of conversation.
Without conversation there is no agreement.