Keeping vigil by a loved one’s bedside as they prepare to journey from this life to the next is both stressful and therapeutic.
The house is quiet, as if holding its breath for what is to come. The room is cozy and warm. The family is gathered. The TV is playing softly in the background. The lights are dim. Night has fallen. You take turns keeping vigil.
She breathes.
The sun rises on a new day. The smell of coffee brewing fills the house. Everyone is awake.
She breathes.
The end is very near. The family talks in quiet, almost whispered voices about nothing, and everything.
The oxygen hisses. The compressor of the air mattress hums in the background. You listen.
She breathes.
In turn, family members sit with her and say their final words. They let her know that she has done for them all there is to do, and that though she will be missed, her journey here is done.
She breathes.
The tension is rising. The time between each breath lengthens. Which one will be her last?
And then it is over. As peaceful as it could possibly happen, she exhales…
