goodbye practice day 6: roses and magpie gifts
whenever i used to go visit granny, i used to bring whole bunch of snacks. snacks that i like. snacks that she likes. snacks that she can shower the entire home friends and staff with.
but as she isnt eating, snacks arent really an option anymore. she's drinking some fluids and some loose mixtures, but that's about it.
ive been bringing her snacks since i started to make my own money back at age 13. and now what?
and as she's curling her tail, there isnt much stuff i could get for her. it's all unnecessary.
it's amazing how many things can quickly become unnecessary.
ive joined a social media group about slow medicine, a practice in walking with persons in their last steps. and i learned small things, like combing her hair, is a nice sensory experience. and ive been pouring over their suggestions. and a few suggested 'scents.'
she's now put her anchor in her room. i dont think she'll get out of that little room much. she's got a big window and it was beautifully sunny, but she wasnt able to get up to see it. her joints are too stiff, she says.
so i bring her roses.
it's bizarre because some roses at the shop, just wasnt smelling like anything. apparently some hybrids have lost their scent, while they look spectacular. so there i am, trying to 'waft' around roses to bring her something from the outside.
today i brought three pink roses.
a year ago, i wouldnt thought that i would be buying pink roses. for anyone. roses are too safe, i wouldve said. roses are too popular, and too easy. but here we are, in end of october, 2020, me buying roses and driving a car with a ding.
she says i shouldnt come.
she also says i shouldnt waste my money on roses.
yet she holds onto my hands.
when i give her a towel wipe on her face, and a little dap with rose water to freshen her face, she sigh quietly, with small pleasure.
when i open the window and let some wind in, she says 'fresh.'
i broke a small freezie into pieces and put it into her sippy cup. she takes the cup with both hands, and drinks slowly.
she smells the roses.
she sighs once again, a small one. but nonetheless.
what else could i bring this lady, except for my own self, and few roses?
nothing else.
i suppose im bringing her outside, and of past. past me, grown with her love, now bringing her some little things, like a magpie. small trinkets, but picked with intention of being 'given.'
i wonder what tomorrow's going to be like. i wonder how her afternoon and evening will be like. i wonder where this all goes, the thoughts we create, swept through consciousness, as time marches on. or flows on. it definitely is taking softer steps recently. seamless yet going.
and my thoughts, as i drive up, and drive back, are speckled with slight anxiety (404 drivers are pushy and fast, i learned. may be i will be used to it by end of this journey. but it does not feel great to be pushed to drive faster and faster). i was telling julian that i feel like hurling most of the time in the morning, when im getting ready to go.
may be things are difficult to digest now.
after all, the word used to mean to separate, to divide and to arrange.
https://www.etymonline.com/word/digest
how do we arrange such overlapping life segments?
when i talk to granny about how she is, what are we really talking about? of her own self? or her outview on what is to come? or her thoughts on others- esp my mom and dad? of what has happened last night when we all left and she was left in her own thoughts?
i dont really know.
does the trees, with their new spectacular colours before their demise, know what they are now? how beautiful they are, and how doomed they are? does the sun know that it is going to outlive all of us? as it has outlived everything that came before us?
today's light was spectacularly beautiful though. beauty matters-
so i bring roses.
may be tmrw, i would be inspired to bring something else. but may be not. perhaps predictability is alright right now, as death, as birth, is also very predictable, for all of us.
Really lovely.
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