My Pa is still with us. Five days since they decided to stop taking life-saving measures. I’m not even going in to all that means. I can’t stand to think about it.
My Mum called last night and asked me to speak to him. Worried that I had not had a chance to say goodbye and that, maybe, he is hanging on because he hasn’t said a proper goodbye to all of us. I’m glad I talked to him but it was hard.
I will never forget the sound of his breathing as my mother held the phone to his ear. I told her that his breathing sounded horrible. She told me “it is, Ali, it is”.
I have had to work in hospitals, with elderly people who are close to death like this but hearing “the death rattle” in this context was more distressing than I could have imagined.
It’s a bit odd but it helps so much to be able to read other peoples blogs and to write here. It’s escapism, sure, but it’s what I need right now.