Reconciling life and death
There is no good way to make sense of this. The loveliest lady. I mean the classiest, most delightful, most graceful, strongest of women by any standards. I mean the best a friend anyone could ever even imagine. I am talking caregiver, cheerleader, confidant for the 41 years of my current particular existence. And countless amounts of time beyond that for all the others whose lives she has touched, whose paths she has crossed. Nana is nearing death.
Eating and drinking do not hold much interest for her of late. It is challenging to discern whether she prefers not to participate or forgets how. Getting washed up and brushing teeth are no longer priorities. Between the decreased mind-body connection and diminished comprehension of time, relieving her bladder and bowels carries neither sensation nor urgency.
With her sleep-wake schedules constantly shifting and her emotional and mental capacity entirely unpredictable, assisting Nana in continuing living requires extreme flexibility and adaptability, consistent recalibration and reflection, and resourcefulness beyond measure. Even with an awareness to gently encourage and also firmly manage, even with intuition and emotional intelligence, there have been freak-outs, lots of them. My saga of purported failures finally came to a close when I chose self-forgiveness.
The dementia is perplexing, even after being witness to it and living among it for more than 3 years. The person you know/knew is there, but not always. Nana visits, but when she will arrive or how long she will stay varies. When she is present, all is well. When she is not, something is wrong. That was my default narrative for a long time. Eventually, I learned to avoid the pitfalls of reasoning with a mind that I once knew to function but no longer does, necessitating abandoning my judgmental vantage and relinquishing my need to fix things.
Built with an instinctive drive for survival, it seems largely counterintuitive to consciously lean toward death at any point. At least it has to me. Until this point. Observing a mind and body so thoroughly fatigued has me closely considering my emotion-laden attachments to the physical realm and acknowledging any resistance to the divine or cosmic forces beyond my control. Witnessing a voice that once rang out so loudly in song now barely able to speak has me in full acceptance of and surrender to death as a natural part of life with a certain sense of calm and comfort, peace and ease. I believe Nana, too, has done her considering and acknowledging, her accepting and surrendering.
A beautiful human is dying after 94 years of her current particular existence. Slowly slowing down right before my eyes. And here I am still trying to live. None of it makes much sense day to day. And I’m finally relieved to say it doesn’t need to. We are here because we are, until we aren’t. We show up because we can, until we can’t. So be responsible for spreading love and light, for going through with grace, to honor to all the beings who crossed your path and made you who you are today. May their history live on in you, and may their spirits find a comfortable vessel to inhabit the next round.
Love you with all my heart, Nana. Namaste, sweet lady. Xo