We’re waiting. My grandmother has been resting peacefully since Monday morning. She acknowledged me by opening her eyes briefly as I was talking to her on Monday evening. I’m so thankful that she recognized my voice. I feel like it was her way of telling me she loves me. She’s not acknowledged us since then. It’s now been 4 days since she’s eaten, and 3 since she’s had any fluids. We’re keeping her comfortable, holding her hand, talking softly to her, and mostly beginning our grieving process. As of Monday noon, hospice gave her 24-48 hours to live.

Each time I’ve left her, I’m terribly scared that it’s the last time I’ll see her alive. I’m angry at myself for not being a better granddaughter, or just a better person in general. Why didn’t I call more? Why didn’t I visit more?

I’m as ready as I can be for the inevitable to happen, but still, I jump when the phone rings, afraid that it’s going to be that call.  I am going to miss her so terribly much, but it pains me to see her as she is now.