The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on.
Nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line
nor all your tears wash out a single word of it.
- Someone wrote from a persian original -
When there is nothing to be done, the only thing you can do is try not to make it worse. She doesn't eat, she won't drink, she can't talk, she only sleeps. Most people wish to go in their sleep, and usually death does take us that way. Nurse says it's part of the process. When the body shuts down and will not work any more, when it doesn't want to be part of this world any more, no more of us does until none of us remains in it.
My grandmother is dying as I sit next to her. Her breath is shallow and I keep listening in case it stops. I can't give her water because she can't swallow any more and even if I did, her body won't process it. She is dying and there is nothing to do about it. She is dying and there are no tablets to give her to make her better and no injections that will make her come back. The only thing we can do is try and stop the pain and tell her, when she comes round, that we are here, that we love her, that above all, we love her.
I tell her not to be scared, I am here, right next to her and I will not take my eyes away. She will not be alone for a second and I'll make sure she feels no pain if I can help it. I'll take care of you, love. I know you are here. I am not going anywhere until you do.
You are missed but in my thoughts. In my thoughts you are still joking and laughing and you bake pies and teach me how to knit. You roll your own cigarettes and do your crosswords. You are old, not senile and we know it well, my love. I remember you and wherever you go, don't forget I'm staying right here with you, not a step away, until you don't need me any more.
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