On Monday night, my grandmother passed away at home. Since her terminal illness diagnosis, she had progressively gotten weaker each time I visited. Two Fridays ago, she was unable to sit up without help. But we could still talk and she asked me about the band tee I got in Toronto the week before. Last Friday, she barely whispered a few instructions to my mom. Mostly she was in a sedated doze while holding my hand. When my mother returned home on Saturday I was told that a priest will be performing last rites on Monday just in case.
I hadn't planned on going, as I wanted to spend time with her, not stand around reciting prayers. But yesterday after lunch, my mom called to say that things had taken a drastic turn in the morning. According to the palliative doctor, who administered several different injections, it was only a matter of hours. When I arrived, she was no longer aware of her surroundings. Over the course of the afternoon, the whole extended family came: all her children and their children. My cousin who recently moved to Vancouver had booked a last-minute flight and came straight from the airport. The older 4th generation kids didn't come, but 2 of the toddling great-grandkids were there with the parents. Each made emotional good-byes upon arrival then caught up with the rest of the family. I think my grandma would not have minded the chatter even if she herself was never a fan of "gossip".
After last rites, my cousins ordered take-out. My mom and I returned to our apartment. The doctor had left behind multiple doses to last through the night. So perhaps she will make it to another sunrise. But after dinner, my sibling called to say that grandma had stopped breathing. The matriarch of our extended family and the last member of the greater extended family was gone.
On the way home, I thought about several things. First, my mom had lamented to her siblings that, despite several aunts taking turns as well as professional support (PSW, visiting nurses), my grandma's care was hard. For their generation, with fewer (and busier) children, it could be "impossible". Sadly, she's not wrong. My situation will be even more dire as I have no partner or progeny. So I will have to manage all my infirmities alone.
This led to my second thought about MAID. For sure I have to include the possibility in my end-of-life planning. I wondered if my grandma would have chosen it if we did not hide her diagnosis. Even in early July, she complained to me that she usually recovers quickly from an illness. This last month may be nothing compared to friends who have family members with more than a decade of care. Still, given the last few weeks of "indignities", she might have opted to leave while in a relatively healthier state. She was well enough at the end of June to receive my sibling and my nieces after their month-long trip to Japan and the old country. And to lovingly tease him about the many photos of eating food.
Third, without my mother, I would consider going "no-contact" with the rest of the family after this. There is no trauma or negative feelings. It's just that, similar to my old buddies, our interaction has become simply an annual Christmas get-together. Not among themselves, just between us due to my temperament and the age-gap (I'm closer to uncle age to some of my cousins and grandpa age to their kids). Better to let our relationships lapse and be out-of-mind until some decades in the future when they receive something in my will. No great riches but maybe enough for a vacation.
Finally, a possible exception to the previous scenario. If my nieces, in their middle-age some years hence, want to reach out to me about forgotten relatives, then I could share few stories from their great grandma. Maybe details about her own siblings and the "greater" extended family. But my generation has already lost most contact (or never had any), so I doubt theirs will care except in a family-tree way. I could even talk about my own great grandmother, what few memories I have, augmented by second-hand tales. A connection through me back to someone from 1899 and forward through them (and their children?) into the 2100s could be affirming. On the other hand, they may not want to bother with the half-forgotten, hermit relative.
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