February being the crappy month that is, it should only have stood to reason that I would have to attend a funeral for a friend on it’s last day. She was a fantastic woman who had also celebrated her 95th birthday earlier this month as well. To give you a bit of insight on this wonderful lady I will tell you what she said to me the day before she died. I popped in to see her on the way down to see my loved one who is still holding on strong in spite of his admittance to the Hospice program. Their rooms were located on the exact same hallway. I tried to visit with her whenever I came to visit my loved one.
This particular morning I was running a little late, but I stopped in to say hello never realizing this was going to be our last conversation together. Her Daughter who is one of my closest friends was there having lunch with her mother. When I asked this 95 year old woman how she was doing that morning, she replied “Well I had to tell them to take me off the medical pot it was making me hallucinate.” They were trying to boost her appetite to see if they could bring her back to her normally perky disposition. Then she said “You know I’m 95, and the truth is I’m not doing so well, but I’d prefer to have a Budweiser over this medical pot. For God’s sake can you even imagine the hallucinations of a 95 year old dying woman!?” All of this in the most endearing southern accent you’ve ever heard, accompanied by a huge grin.
We laughed and I told her how good her hair was looking, kissed her sweet little cheek. As I was heading down the hallway to my loved one I was thinking about what this lovely little woman had said to me on the previous visit. She told me that she had enjoyed her life. That she had been given the opportunity to do so many things that many others had not been as lucky to experience. She told me that she had made many mistakes along the way, and that she had very few regrets. I listened to her words of contentment in her soft southern draw, she continued by telling me she was a little fearful of the ending process itself. Then she looked at me with her sweet little face, and said “That’s just natural you know.” I know in my heart of hearts that she had come to a peaceful acceptance. Something I hope that I will be able to do when my time comes.
The world is a little sadder without the sound of her beautiful little southern draw to fill the air. 😉
“Our lives…are but a little while,
so let them run as SWEETLY as you
can, and give no thought to grief from
day to day. For time is not concerned
to keep our hopes, but hurries on its
business, and is gone.”