Life is not always fair
Gracie's other grandmother (The mother to Gracie's mom) checked into the hospital last week. Grammy #2 wasn't feeling well. The first hospital she checked into couldn't find anything wrong and passed her over to an assisted care facility for some rehab. That didn't work out as Grammy #2 still didn't feel right. Time for a second opinion at another hospital.
Second hospital did tests. And more tests. At the conclusion of the tests it has been determined that Grammy #2 at age 62 is dying and nothing can be done to reverse it. That has come as quite a shock to everyone except Bob. Life long habit of smoking. Life to extreme excesses. Grammy #2 has done a number on herself. I hate being right.
There's a vigil at the hospital. Family members take turns sitting with poor Grammy #2 who most likely won't live the week out. Unfortunately - or maybe fortunately, Grammy #2 is so doped up she has no clue who is sitting with her and what time of day it is. The medical staff feel it's better to keep her pain free as they opine that it's much more difficult to achieve that level if left un-medicated and alert.
I've cried over this. But the tears were not so much for the dying but for those soon to be left behind. The tears were also in memory of how each of our parents died and the effect their loss had on both of us. Years later those wounds still sting.
Why is it that we know death comes sooner of later and that the process of birth/life/death/infinity woven into our existence . . . that's we're so unprepared for it? When death knocks on the door it often comes as a shock. A surprise. We're ripped to pieces. The general sentiment is that life can be so very unfair.
I wonder if in her last hours if Grammy #2 is going over her life and answering fundamental questions.
Have I lived fully?
Have I loved well?
Have I just been taking up space?
One would hope or pray that the answers could come up, Yes, Yes and Nope.
What would your answers be?