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ratboy

Australia

Member Since 2003

Followers 9 Following 18

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Sunday Feb 27, 2005

Feb 26, 2005
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When I walk, I think.

When I walk, I remember ...

I remember a hospital that didn't really smell of antiseptic. Walking in with my parents to the hospital to visit my dying grandmother was something that I was trying to avoid.

And there is no sugar coating it, she was dying.

I had prepared; a few months ago I called in to see her and was shocked by the wasting illness that had consumed an always jolly woman with a twinkle in her eye.

I was sure I was ready.

Nothing could prepare me for the skeleton in the hospital bed. I had never thought to see such a hideous sight.

My father mouthed platitudes and my mother fussed and asked questions like, "Do you know what day it is?"

I greeted her and kissed her cheek tenderly. She looked up at me and I could see no recognition in the eyes.

"I have two sons ..." began my mother.

"Derek!" exclaimed my grandmother.

"Yes, Derek and?"

Try as she might my name would rise in her memory. My two cousins and my brother's name did. So I dismissed the incident at her distress.

I drove from the hospital to the lake at the end of the road where my grandmother's house was and had a cigarette. I felt like I should cry but just couldn't do it.

A month to the day my grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep. The day before, her two daughters had been to visit and she had been alert and aware.

... I shoulda caught the tram.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
pixen:
You have my empathy.

I helped look after my nana for 2 years when she was still living in her own house. I spent hours wiping up feces, climbing through windows when she fell over and couldnt open the door, massaging calloused and swollen feet and making endless cups of tea.

She is a fabulous lady, who, although she can't remember the time of day or how to wash herself, is switched on in the minute and has a terrific and acrid sense of humour.

I went to see her at her nursing home the other day. She didn't know who I was. Not only that but she is wasting away inside pastel pink walls.

I have a grand plan never to die like that, or let my friends die like that. One day I will own a house big enough to accomodate a legion of my decrepid and demented friends, so that we can dribble, urinate and die in the knowledge that there are no pastels in sight. Furthermore, we will have a good dealer, so that we can go out in our own special way, with a bang.
ARRR!!!



[Edited on Mar 01, 2005 4:08PM]
Feb 28, 2005
aaronsrod:
I just dropped by to say hello and to see what you have been up to. I hope your easter was a fun as mine.
Mar 27, 2005

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