Dustin Ahkuoi

The year was 2000…the season if I remember correctly was spring. This was the time when my Grandma Fern was admitted into a local hospice in North Carolina. I was home from college for a few days and I had visited her several times. I remember the hospice being a peaceful place…serene and refreshing. On one particular night I felt a stirring around midnight to drive to the hospice and visit her once again. I didn’t understand my urge at the time…it was late and the Hospice was at least a half and hour from my parents house. Nevertheless I hopped in the car and made the trek to see my beloved Grandma.

To understand why I call her beloved…well…you just had to be there as I was growing up. She was my barber, my crossword puzzle partner, my funny page reader, my fresh out of the garden tomato sandwich maker, my scrabble opponent…my friend. As I entered the room where she lay almost unresponsive…the moonlight beamed into her room. The light was a cool blue color with soft golden hues. A sweet angelic song was playing on her CD player…drowning out the sound of breathing machines and the shuffling feet of hospice workers.. I announced my arrival to her and sat down in the chair right next to her bed. I grabbed her hand and began singing songs to her…it was one of those deep breath moments where I felt all was calm and right with the world. Around 2AM I fell asleep still holding her hand.

At 4AM I awoke with her hand still in mine and I glanced over to see how she was doing. What I saw was something that would mark me for life…as my eyes rest on her sweet face she literally took one deep breath…and that one breath would be her last. I sat in silence for quite a while so I could grieve and drink in the moment. After sometime passed I got up to close the door, walked over to the CD player, put on the aforementioned song and then just sat and cried - it was as if God in Heaven had picked the soundtrack for the end of her final day on earth. Soon after the song was done I walked outside to inform the hospice workers that my Grandma had passed.

My Grandma Fern was an accomplished woman. She had taught for many years and travelled quite a bit…yet none of her plaques, awards or material things were present in the room that night…none of those inanimate objects were there to hold her hand. It was the people she loved that were by her bedside during her last days. This experience pulled me out of my selfish, possessive little world and brought me into the light of love. I have not been the same since that night…and I pray I never will be.