I'm looking at old photos on my hard drive. This is the last picture ever taken of my grandma (12/26/06), three days before she died. Looking at the photo now I feel horrible, because that must be exactly how she felt. But at the time, not knowing she only had a couple days left, it was just humorous.
Is that wrong?
I can't help but smile because despite the horribly jaundiced skin and the passed out grandma, I just see this goofy cat that wouldn't leave the woman alone. Every morning when she woke up, my grandma wanted me to wheel her out to the comfy chair by the fireplace. No TV, no music. Just quiet. I think she just didn't want to be alone.
And so, my stupid cat Oliver crawled up on her lap. It's not like she argued! LOL I doubt she even noticed.
This was also the last day she was really coherent. Before the pain took over, before she took her last breath. I think she was so much more worn out than she let on. She just never wanted to be a bother to us, even though I would have done anything for her.