Saying good bye...

It's half term and, working term time only, I should be relaxing, watching tv really late, sleeping in, maybe even doing a bit of research for that degree of mine. At least, that was the intended plan. But life is full of surprises and challenges, and it's brought me a big one this time around. Something a lot bigger than I thought I could deal with.

You see, I got a call from my mother a few weeks ago, telling me that my Nan just wasn't doing well at all. She was diagnosed just before Christmas with metastasized bone cancer and was hospitalized a couple of days before Christmas eve. And, just because it's more fun where there's two of you, my granddad has a nice advancing case of Alzheimer. So when my mother called, it took me less than a heartbeat to decide to take the advantage of the coming holidays to visit my family and spend some time with my grand-parents.

When I saw my gran at Christmas, even though she was in hospital and in pain, she could still get up and get about with some support, was very alert and was even complaining about every little things, as well as being her usual inpatient major pain in the butt. Don't take this wrong, I totally adore my gran, but you got to call a cat a cat, and my nan, well she was never a sweet little kitten but rather a though tiger.

Today, barely 2 months later, she has changed too much for one to comprehend the unreasonable advance of the disease. She cannot stand on her legs, even with help, she drifts in and out, not managing to focus on a conversation, she sleeps all the time and is starting to forget who the people in her life are. When she mistook my cousin for my brother (in her defense, they do look a lot alike) and started asking him about his travel in India, that was a bit of a shock for the family. And to add to the fun, she's gone totally deaf! The one good thing is that she is not in pain anymore.

She is being cared for very well by all involved in her day to day care, and so is my granddad. The dylema we however face is the reluctancy of her husband to face to the fact that she is dying. He told her it wasn't the cancer but her fall over the summer that caused her current condition. The sadness in this, is that he really believes it and, even though my aunt actually told him nan was dying - using those exact words, not a conversation anyone wants to have with their dad, he is really sturggling to get to term with it.

So, yesterday, during a moment of clarity, as I was alone with her, my gran asked me, tapping her head: "I'm not here because of the fall, am i? it's the cancer." I looked at her puzzled, I wasn't sure what she was getting at. I think she could read it in my eyes and asked again "I'm here because of the cancer? Your granddad says it can be cured." I felt so shocked as she carried on "It can't be cured, can it? Tell me the truth, I want to know." then she added in a whisper... "I need to know".

I couldn't believe what she was saying. I was battling so hard to hold the tears I could feel forming in the corner of my eyes, I didn't want to break down right there and then. I  looked around, maybe trying to find someone to rescue me from having this conversation, maybe making sure the coast was clear and no one would interrupt probably one of the hardest thing I even had to do. I turned back to her, took a deep breath and said: "No nan, it's not the fall. It is your cancer." I paused for what felt like a lifetime, but she was staring at me, somehow urging me to carry on. "It's not one they can cure." I paused again, looking at her. Her eyes weren't telling me much, I couldn't figure out what she was feeling. I added: "but they can manage it." My mother returned to the room at that moment, saving me from falling apart in front of Nan. I made my excuses to go the bathroom and, once there, I wept.

Once I composed myself, I returned to the room. Nan had been moved into her bed and was now snoozing peacfully. Granddad was sitting next to the bed, just looking at her, as he does everyday between 2 and 5pm. He is watching the life leaving his beloved wife and it is breaking his heart. And that's a very hard thing to witness.

Now, each person deals with imminent death and all the traumas and responsibilities that come with it, but experiencing it first hand is a whole different ball game. Over the last few years, my mother and her sister have reconnected and strengthen their relationship in a way I could never have hoped for. It's made me so happy to see they were not only getting along, but also really building their bond. Today, I worry as I see that bond weakening as they both try to deal with their parents' situation as best as they can with very different support and input from their respective husbands. Unfortunately, it is putting so much pressure on all 4 of them, that I'm not sure their relationship can survive.

I deal with this the only way I can, I try to be honest with the people around me, try to be supportive of my mum and my aunt, I appraoch my granddad's state with as much empathy, kindness and gentleness as I can, trying to help him through this while I'm here. Part of me wants to put everything on hold back in Devon and stay with them for a while. I guess I'm just not ready to say good bye just yet.