Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Gift Of Presence

Today I spent eight hours with my Nana Angelina in her nursing home. I sat right next to her bed. When she awoke, I smiled and gently spoke with her. When she slept, I put the cold towel on her forehead and sponged her arms and the back of her neck and face with cool water. Her fever was 101F.

She stopped eating last week. Today her 'adult pad' (the appropriate term for an adult diaper) was hardly wet. They changed it once. The nurses changed her position in bed twice.

Nana will be ninety-three this week. If she makes it. Her organs are shutting down slowly before my eyes, and her skin is losing its color over the course of the day.

The hospice nurse came. The doctor had ordered to stop all feeds because she aspirates (chokes) when she eats her thickened liquid meals. She can no longer take a pill.

I spoke with the nurse at length, and agreed to the arrangements. The nurse later drove to mom's house where my sister and mom were waiting to sign the forms.

I asked Nana, 'are you tired? are you Done? do you want to see Nannu?' and she just stared blankly back at me. Earlier in the day, when she first woke up, she recognized me and asked for a kiss. She also said she was hungry.

What do you do when a loved one is in the early process of death?

You sit.
You talk.
You hold hands.
You take photographs.
You cry.
You thank God for the time you have left.
You give permission 'to go'.

Alzheimer's is a disease that causes so much suffering!

What do you do when you are watching the one you love so much arrive at end-stage dementia?

And what do you do when you are Reiki Doc?

You surrender.
You accept.
You see Blessed Mother over Nana's left shoulder and your Twin Soul over her right, and negotiate and get reassurance from the Other Side that she will not suffer. They say, 'we'll take care of her'.
You have visions of unicorns who present Nana as a young woman to you, and later, as she will appear from The Other Side (as she did when I was about ten).
You ask the Unicorns (there were a lot of them in a field in the etheric plane that I saw with my mind's eye), very politely in their ear, about unicorn etiquette:
     How do you say 'thank you' to a unicorn the proper way?
You watch as that question touches them deeply. They think reply, 'Mahalo nui loa' is what we say.
You make flower garlands and ti-leaf leis (the open-ended kind) in spirit for the female and male unicorns and put them on and say 'mahalo nui loa' to each one. They act like they tolerate it but you know in your heart they appreciate the attention very much, and look them in the eye and smile.

The message that came through tonight was that all is not decided yet--she is 'thinking about it'.

I also, in the silence, felt our auras communicate profoundly in the Language of Light, Nana Angelina and myself.

You also thank the nurses and LVN's for the remarkable job they have done taking care of your loved one.

When was the last time I spent that much time with Nana? I don't think I ever have.

What was my happiest memory with Nana? Taking her to see the opera Pagliacci and watching her smile. I wish I had done that more often.

What is my biggest regret? That I didn't spend enough time with her.
Her spirit corrected me--in the Language of Light--and said I was not made for that kind of life where you are a homemaker like she was. She also let me know she understood, and was proud of me. And she never wants to see me cry.

Her life, compared to what it was, is really hard for her. When she was more alert, she was embarrassed at the 'adult pad' part. She hated the food, although she loved the 'formal' dining room. Although all the nurses love her, and make her smile, and come to see her even though they don't have to, Nana's existence is not what she ever had in mind.

But to spend a whole day just with her, in her suffering?

It's the gift of self that always gives back more in return.

I feel wonderful right now. Except for the part where I am going to at some time say, 'Good bye'.

Aloha and Mahalos,

Reiki Doc