I remember Friday, 25 January 2013 like it was yesterday. I had stayed with Nan for her final few days; it was getting harder for her to breathe, she was on full oxygen. Hospice came with Ativan to help with the anxiety that is felt closer to death. I probably could have used that Ativan too. It felt so weird sleeping in Nan’s bed without Nan by my side. I didn’t sleep well, I kept going downstairs and checking on her. I would often hug her and lay by her side for a bit. I was so afraid of finding her dead. Yet, I couldn’t abandon her; she cared for me my entire 23.5 years of life at that time and I wanted to take care of her in her final days.
It was evident that she was going to pass on the 25th. She was holding on because of me; hospice recommended that I say my goodbyes and spend time with friends, my parents agreed. I spent time with Christine and I felt so blah throughout the day. I remember crying as I said my goodbye to Nan. I walked outside, to her red porch, snow falling down, dad behind me. He was going to drop me off at the P&W.
The next morning when I came home from Christine’s, I was on the red porch again, in the bright sun. Nan’s house empty since she died on the night of the 25th. It felt surreal and I felt so numb.
10 years. I miss you more and more each day. I wish you were here to meet David, you would love him. I wish I could verbally tell you how much joy, laughter, and light he brings into my life. I wish I could tell you all about the Public Defender’s Office and how well I’m doing. 10 years ago I wish you could have watched me graduate from WCU in December 2013, now I wish you were here for a possible wedding (David is talking about it) in the future. I wish I could experience life with you again. I know that you are watching over me and smiling. I love you and miss you.