Intensive care,
round two:
tubes, IV’s,
monotonous monitors
blipping against background
oxygen hiss
and bubbling humidifier...
Quadruple coronary bypass
a success;
following surgery,
something altered:
liquid swallowed
into lungs,
aspiration pneumonia’s
labored breath,
wordless weakness,
suctioned exhaustion;
days of drifting
restless semi-sleep.
Chest tube inserted,
drawing plentiful fluid
from around most burdened lung.
Breath restored,
again awake,
ever complaint-less.
Lab girl sent for blood,
Grandma’s precious breath
thanking her, telling her
she had done a good job.
Within minutes
the crash came,
those sweet, encouraging words
to a stranger
among her last.
May I be
ever kind...
her kind.
A contest entry
- In Honor of a Loved One by IamXann.
600 points, ended June 23, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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This is the way I want to write, with keen observation to detail. This is such a poignant piece. The first stanza brings back memories. I find myself caring about this person, rooting for her to get well. The end, well, reminds me of my Mom only days before her death, asking me if I felt better because I had a bad headache the previous day.
This is beautiful. My eyes are welling with tears.
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Just wanted to add another comment: I like the layered meaning of the title...way to go = success, achievement and your grandmother's passing was done with dignity and kindness right up to the end which made her death the "way to go"
And I forgot the clappies last time, so
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Lovely tribute!
You were truly blessed to have a wonderful, loving grandmother and your description of her final days, hours bears your love for her. Beautiful! -
awww your grandma sounds a loving woman mirthyl..this is so sad..xxx
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Oh, my, how tragic. Such is life, and death, I suppose, but we are human and feel our loss deeply. This mad me cry. It is so very sad. It is also beautiful.
I really don't know what else to say.
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The depth of loss is perhaps inverse to the height of the soul that has loved and been loved. She was grace and strength, integrity and humor, gentleness and kindness. She drove herself to the hospital, not to inconvenience anyone (she was having a heart attack). They explained options, and she chose surgery, which was successful. She suffered respiratory complications, rallyed, but did not recover from the relapse. She was 93 years old. I miss her deeply, but count it among my life's choicest blessings to have known and belonged to and been loved by her.
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Sounds like Grandma had a wonderful spirit, that she has passed to you. This is a beautiful poetic tribute.
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Thank you, Mallig, for such a high compliment. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her when I grow up. She was amazing, and I loved her dearly.
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I think you are her.
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Your confidence brings tears to my eyes.
I am working to be like her. It was my aspiration from childhood.
I often used to pray that God would make me like her. Then, as I got older, and learned more about all she had to go through to become as she was, I asked if I couldn't be like her without going through such hard stuff. My answer was along the lines of Hebrews 5:8, "Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered." Suffering can help us become more tender and patient, and closer to and more reliant on our Lord as it drives us, of necessity, to our knees to seek His help.
I stopped praying to be like her as a teen, the course was so intimidating! Yet God is faithful, and has provided me opportunities to try to live up to her example in little ways, and even a few bigger ones. I look forward to being in her embrace again, and hope to reach a measure of her stature in my days.
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