I attended the bedside of my grandmother as she died... For three days I stayed, living out of a duffel bag. Although she'd been admitted with a relatively minor ailment, it soon became clear that she had no intention of leaving while she drew breath-- She had outlived her husband, most of her friends, her son, and her daughter... my mother.
Although I wasn't really sure what to do, it soon became apparent that simply being there for her, doing small things-- Listening to her, touching her, feeding her ice chips, and running interference with the staff was plenty. It was her universe, and for that short time, it became mine. I realized that I had never felt so strongly that I was in exactly the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. It was ultimately a blessing for both of us.
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