Sunday, January 03, 2010

I'm reading

Molly Wizenberg's A Homemade Life, stories and recipes from my kitchen table.

A wonderful little book of stories and recipes.

The one chapter that I would mention is the one about her father's death. Where the home nurse instructs the author not to call her dad back but to let him go.

When my grandmother died in August 2002 I spent her last full night alive on a cot next to her hospital bed. In the middle of the night I woke up to see my uncle and his stepfather standing next to my grandmother. Not wishing to intrude I kept my eyes closed but will never forget my uncle telling H to tell my grandmother that it was okay to go. That we would be fine.

It was one of the most heartbreaking things that I've ever listened to. My uncle was an incredibly strong person - when his son died in 2001 he stood up near V's casket and when family members were done paying their respects they would turn around to be seated and my uncle would be waiting there for each one of them - arms wide open to comfort.

My uncle died on my birthday 2 years ago.

I miss him tremendously.

2 comments:

east village idiot said...

I think you come from a long line of special people. Thank you for sharing that story about your uncle. What a man - sounds like he was part angel.

Auntie sezzzzzz... said...

What a wonderful thing to be able to do... To give the person permission to die. It must be very hard to do, but must ease the last moments of the dying.

Hugs...