My ancient suegra is 97, and has recently been precipitously declining. Five months ago she moved from the ALF part of The Palace to the nursing home, totally immobile, but still mostly aware. Over the past weeks she barely rouses, and when she does, seems to have zero idea who any of us are.
Yesterday the nurses called to tell Wifey she had stopped drinking or eating the day before. I drove to the Palace after a lunch meeting on Brickell, and met with the nurse. Rachel was deeply asleep. The nurse shook her, almost violently, to attempt to rouse her. Nothing -- just peaceful sleep. Obviously, they can't give her anything by mouth that way, and we do NOT want them to place a feeding tube or IV.
Wifey arrived, and got into bed with her Mom, holding her. She has accepted that the end may well be approaching. She is sad, but dealing with it, of course.
The Ds are visiting today. I told D2 it was still ok to go to Atlanta, since no one knows when the end will come. If need be, she'll come back early.
I called Rabbi Yossi, just to see if he's in town. He is, but leaving Monday and Tuesday -- to see his ailing father in Crown Heights. He wisely noted that there's truly nothing to do ahead of time -- Rachel already has her funeral arrangements made -- and when Hashem decides the time is at hand, the time is at hand.
Still, I'm OCD, and already have a Relief Rabbi in mind -- young Rabbi Dovi, the Brazilian guy. We met when he was a young assistant at the Shul of Brickell, and now he started his own congregation in Aventura -- mostly catering to Brazilian Jews there. We've kept in touch, and if needed, I will call upon him to come to Kendall.
When we contemplate the death of elderly parents, we recall our other experiences, and today I was remembering what turned out to be a funny memory.
It was May of 2012, and my Mom was to be discharged from Delray Hospital to Miami Jewish Home. I had gone to Gainesville to fetch D2 for the Summer, and the plan was to stop at Delray, fetch Grandma Sunny, and bring her to the nursing home. D2 was keen on spending some quality time with her Grandma, knowing there weren't to be years left. We wheeled Sunny to my car, and put her into the front seat. D2 was in back, playing on her phone.
Shortly after I got on I-95, Sunny was out. I nudged her a bit. Nothing. Oh crap, I thought -- she freaking died right there.
I immediately recalled how my Dad died in my arms 30 years before, I was STILL messed up about that, and now I was visiting another death upon my darling daughter -- as she happily texted away.
I figured there was nothing to do but keep driving to Miami Jewish -- the staff would help me there -- and it would be a record short stay at that facility for Mom.
I chatted with D2 as if everything was ok -- figuring she'd freak if she knew she was riding behind a corpse.
And then -- around Hollywood -- Mom awoke. "David -- where are we???" Ah -- gracias to the Big Man! She was alive!
We continued on to Little Haiti, got Sunny settled in, and then drove home. There was no trauma to the undergrad!
Sunny would live there 11 more months -- apparently the textbook length of stay at a nursing home for a person at the end of life. We celebrated her 93rd birthday on April 13, 2013, and she was present but not really. She raised her glass of soda and said "Happy New Year, Everyone!" She died 2 weeks later.
So we'll see with my suegra. I did some research, and typically someone lasts no more than 3-4 days without water. But my suegra, a Survivor in every sense, seems to defy odds. She was by far the most obese person in the ALF, and ate almost exclusively sugar. She was no worse for the wear.
Might she keep on living for awhile? She might. Big Man knows. But today the Ds want to say their final words to her -- just in case.
And if this is indeed her end -- drifting from a deep, pain free sleep to the Great Beyond, at 97.5 years old , well, there are far worse ways to go.
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