We stood there in silence, my mom, my dad, my uncle and I and just watched Nan breathe. We commented on how it was changing in quiet, subdued voices reserved for such a time as this.
We wondered both in word and in thought, what she might be thinking or feeling.
We marvelled at the tears that slowly escaped her closed eye lids, and wondered if she knew we were there, loving her on Home, releasing her, hoping that Jesus would actually free her from the prison of her almost 100 year old body.
It occurred to me that there are few times in life when we actually watch people breathe. As a Mom, I have spent many quiet moments watching my newborn babies sleep, taking in every movement of their chest, every flicker of the nerves, every curve of their sweet smelling face and lips and nose and cheeks. I have marvelled at their perfectness, their flawlessness, and their complete peace. It was only the knowledge that this sacred sight would be over that kept me from letting my aching arms reach down and scoop up my precious baby, holding him tight, never wanting to let go. I have felt like I could watch my babies sleep and breathe forever.
I felt the same last night watching Nan breathe her final breath. I felt like I could watch this sacred scene for a long time. At the beginning of life, and at it's end - that's when we watch our loved ones with an intensity and focus that is reserved for the acknowledgement of the reality of life and breath. At the beginning of life we marvel at the awesomeness of a new, little life, full of hope and potential. At the end, we reflect on the life that was, on the years of love given and hopes and dreams fulfilled. We acknowledge the beauty and the blessing of a life that touched others. But in both scenes we watch and respect the quietness, the peacefulness and the sacredness of the moment.
Nan certainly lived a beautiful life that loved and touched others. She was everything a grandma is supposed to be - the provider of sleepovers, cookies, liquorice, manicures, hugs, and laughter. She was the smile that makes you feel instantly loved and at home; she will always be the connecting piece between cousins, aunts and uncles that live miles apart; she was the warmth that kept drawing you back because you knew you are loved beyond measure, cherished beyond your wildest dreams, and blessed beyond belief.
I love you Nan. For all you were and for all you have done, my life is richer because of you.
I can't wait until I can see you again.
