HOW DO YOU SAY GOOD-BYE IN THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE?

                 You matter to the last moment of your life, and we will do all we can,
                 not only to help  you die peacefully, but to help you live until you die.
                                                                                         Dame Cicely Saunders

HOW DO YOU SAY GOOD-BYE IN THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE?

Everybody adored my grandfather. Full of love, still waters running deep; he made me laugh. That is, until the last stage of his life.

His doctor gave him three months to live. He told him he needed a year. Shortly after Christmas in January, just after that year, he entered the hospital.

Our family had been summoned. We approached the hospital elevator. “No one under 12 is allowed in the critical care unit,” the sign read. My parents told my youngest sister that she could not visit. My father would stay with her. Later, I would relieve him.

I saw the crushed look on her face. It haunted me all the way up the elevator and down the long, dark corridors. I watched my other sister tremble as we neared his room.

Our grandfather met our gaze. His sunny smile greeted us. Protruding tubes were out of place on a body that had always been a call to comfort others with hugs. Delighted to see him, we smiled and rushed to hug him anyway...taking care, as much as teenagers can. Dying did not seem present. Love was. Once engaged, we stepped back and met his eyes. Where’s Sam? I flinched as our mother told him that she would not be coming. Wendy looked down at her shoes.

Our mother left to get water for him. Though not groomed to be friends, my sister and I shot each other a glance. A plan was made.

“Did you see the stairs outside his room?” My sister said, “Yes.” “I am going to run down and get Samantha. We’ll run upstairs and be back before there’s trouble.” My sister lit up. My grandfather gave us each a conspiratorial look.

Downstairs, I said I would stay with Samantha. Not exactly a lie. I waited until the elevator closed and asked, “Do you want to see Grandpa?” An emphatic nod ushered a beaming smile across Samantha’s face. “Then grab my hand.” We sprinted up the stairs that opened only two doors away from my grandfather’s room. Inside, my grandfather’s body heaved a sigh of relief. Samantha was doe-eyed with wonder. She was so happy to see him and he laughed upon seeing her.

Moments later my father entered. No scene, no drama. My grandfather had a calming effect on my parents. Today was no exception. The love between a grandfather and his granddaughters was so overflowing that the promise of an enduring connection, transcending all, would remain.

Two days later, we learned that our grandfather had just died.

It brought such joy, that ending revolution; living close to the edge of intimacy as it unfurled, sharing our last goodbyes.