A Holy Honor Indeed
My grandmother, Betty Walworth Lemen, passed away last Wednesday in Rancho Mirage, California. She'd been in the hospital for a full month, originally with pneumonia, her health rallying and then failing, making no promises about what the next day would hold.
My brave Aunt Mary Kay, grandma's only daughter stayed by her side every possible minute, working her teaching job during the day and staying at the hospital through the night. My Uncle Gary, Mary Kay's husband and thankfully a pharmacist, stood guard for endless hours too, carefully checking doses -- at least one of which was wrong. My Uncle Bruce, grandma's son, also juggled his day job along with night shifts at the hospital. And Mary Kay's dear friend, Rose, spent days with grandma, keeping her company and singing for her.
You'll never meet anyone more capable, self-sacrificing, and unwilling to impose on you than Mary Kay, but she finally took my mom up on her offer to come from Minnesota and help at the hospital. I'm so proud of mom for the quiet, cheerful way that she cared for her mother-in-law, doing menial tasks to help grandma feel just a little more comfortable and to give the others a chance to rest.
On Monday, mom reported to us that grandma was thanking everyone and basically saying her goodbyes. I jumped on a plane the next morning and arrived at the hospital about 30 hours before grandma passed on.
Our good friend, Grace, used the term "holy honor" for being present when someone dies. It was unspeakably sad to witness grandpa, Mary Kay, and Bruce, tortured by seeing grandma suffer and then grieving their loss when she was gone. As painful as it was, I'm thankful beyond words to have been there. I witnessed a 90 year-old man tearfully giving his last kisses to his bride of 63 years. A holy honor indeed.
Posted January 19, 2005 9:47 PM