I visited my favorite 96 y/o this afternoon. She’s fragile. I went into her room and sat next to her. She asked to touch my face and immediately said what she always says, “Hello. You are my favorite nurse! What time is it? Are you giving me medicine?”
I kissed her. She held my hands. I told her I just came to visit. I asked her how she was doing.
“I’m going home. I’m ready. That’s how I’m doing?”
“Where are you going, darling?”
She immediately said loudly, “I going to be with the Good Lord. I’m ready! I plan on seeing my husband. I’m gonna dance again. I’m gonna get my vision. I will sing and feel young again.”
She’s ready. I’m not. Not quite yet. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. So I let the tears fall without her knowing. I will miss her…her spunkiness and smart remarks are precious. I will miss her stories. I will miss her soulfulness and smile.
She shared more about love and life. She was tired. In a loving and gentle manner she let me know after a bit that she wanted to go to sleep.
I kissed her tightly. Her fragile bones wrapped around me. Her lovely fingers traced my face. And I left keeping it together trying to be professional.
Outside were leaves flying all over. The trees showed their beauty as they stand the test of time and weather.
She has lived through some major weather changes: storms, floods, sunrises, and seasons. Her colors are dimming. She’s ready to go home…dancing, whistling, swirling in the wind like the autumn leaves falling right outside her window.
(Photo taken outside of her facility. Reminded me of her love for life. Vibrant).