Facing the inevitable

Death seems to have a way of sneaking up on us, even when we're expecting it. Or should be expecting it.

My grandmother, who is 92, had a severe stroke nearly two weeks ago.

I know that she has had a long life.

I know that this is part of the circle of life.

I know that it woud be better for her to pass on than to live in a world where she cannot swallow, cannot speak, and must rely on machines for her daily existence.

I know all of this. Yet it still feels unexpected. I don't want her to die. I'm not ready for her to die.

She's not ready to die either, which makes it even harder, I think.

She's fighting it. She vigorously shakes her head no when her "Preacher Boy" begins to talk to her about going to be with her God.

She has had a long life. I wonder why she is fighting death now in some ways, but letting it take it's course in others. Is she afraid?

I think that her fight is futile. Her will cannot overcome the limitations of her body. Preacher Boy prayed for her. Prayed that her God would give her the strength to heal, if that is his will.

Her body is beginning to shut down, even as her mind is clear and she is aware of what's going on around her.

I want to shoo death away from her as though it was some pesky insect. I want it to go away, to let me have my grandmother.

I'm not ready for this. I know it's coming and I'm not ready for it.