She was in a facility and hoarded, literally everything she could get her hands on. Clinged to it, put it in piles, shoved it in drawers, in her pockets, under her blankets.
Little bits of paper, food, wrappers, you name it.
Her skin was so thin and fragile and as a result she had wounds and skin tears all over her body, so I spent a lot of time with her.
She told me about her late husband and would stare at an old photo of him when I was caring for her. I could tell from her face when she spoke of him that he was the light of her life.
She softened when she talked about him, her eyes lit up, and she smiled.
She was estranged from both of her sons, who lived in other states. She never told me what happened, but when I spoke to her sons, while they thanked me for the updates, there was always a definite tension in their voices. They had not seen her for years and didn’t plan to.
At some point they had just given up on any type of relationship with her, for whatever reason.
She had a very difficult time with the transition in spite of all of the efforts we took to try and give her some relief.
I learned time and time again, through experience that when people have a lot of unresolved spiritual issues, they have a more difficult time settling, accepting, allowing, letting go…dying…which makes a lot of sense.
I was at the office one morning and I got this sudden intuitive feeling that I needed to get to her.
So I did. Only traffic got in the way, and it took me longer than normal. As I was walking in the door, I received a phone call from her nurse at the facility; she had passed 5 minutes before I got there.
The nurses at the facility said she had a good night and passed peacefully.
Maybe at the very end, she realized that she had no choice but to let go, stop clinging, and needed the little bit of time and space to do so. I’d like to think that, at least.
That at least at the end, she had made peace with herself and others. I hope her sons eventually did too.
Good lesson to learn…before the end.