Advertisement
It takes 84 years to live a life and four hours to end it.
Yesterday was to be my last day in Santiago, home to the bones of St. James the Apostle. Sandi was to fly home to Vancouver, while Lynne and I were to go to Paris for a few days. All that changed with an email from my mother-in-law's niece, Jessie. It looked as though time might be short for Tess and things were deteriorating rapidly. So I abandoned poor Lynne, who will now be seeing the City of Lights on her own until she chooses to head over to London.
A train ride to La Coruna, then hours in the terminal waiting for a flight that actually landed early in Heathrow. This never happens, but St. James and the Camino coincidences, and help, keep mounting up.
Tess was in the St. James wing of the hospital in the intensive care unit, again another irony that was not lost on me. This St. James, rather than being of wonderful architecture and pageantry was one of beeping machines, flashing lights and anguished cries from the other beds. The only common theme may be the sense of reverence in each - one for faith and life, the other for science and life.
She was unconscious when I arrived, despite being off the heavy sedatives. She had been kept alive through great medical interventions until I got there. Jessie and I conferred together;,she also provided her brother Julian's perspective on matters. We all agreed that there was no hope of recovery and that it was just a matter of time. Tess's organs were shutting down, she had pneumonia and an untraceable obstruction in her bowel that was causing mischief. Her kidneys were failing, her liver, too. While the doctors were prepared to continue with heroics, including an offer to start filtering her blood, this was not a route we knew Tess would want. She would have hated the tube down her throat, the drips everywhere and the indignity of the whole thing.
The doctor spelled out all the alternatives, none of which would lead to any other place but Tess's death. So, the drug that kept her blood pressure up was removed. She was made comfortable with sedatives, warmth and the breathing tube left in place. Jessie and I sat there as we watched her vital signs deteriorate quite quickly and, in true Tess fashion, then stabilize and rally. For the first fifteen minutes, Jessie and I held each other's hands as well as Tess's. As it appeared she still had some fight in her, we chatted quietly and told stories of her life. We laughed a little, included her in some of the conversation, and had tea prepared for us by the wonderful nurse, Donna. Almost four hours later, she was still going strong in her heart. Her blood pressure was down to 30 over 20, but that heart kept pumping. Jessie was encouraged to get a bit of rest, which she finally agreed to while I sat vigil with a promise to wake her in two hours so that she could take the next shift. It was no more than five minutes later that her vitals started deteriorating rapidly. Jessie was brought back and two minutes later, Tess was gone. It was all very peaceful and painless.
Tess was one of the most complicated people I knew. She could be generous to a fault and parsimonious to herself. She wore forty year old Hermes scarves with great flair. She loved babies, was a great cook, and led an extremely interesting life. She lived in Russia/Poland as a child, in England as a teen, in Libya and Kuwait as a young married mother. She spent time in Spain, where her beloved husband Gad died suddenly and young. She spent the next forty-plus years in England, having made a life for herself filled with good works and some fascinating friends. She has pictures of herself at parties with Princess Margaret and others. All of these events meant a great deal to her and to her sense of place in the world.
She was a woman who suffered through and created losses. A brother killed in the war. Parents gone when she was still a young woman. Her husband. Many friends and other family members. This made her tough and strong and sometimes difficult.
She loved a few people fiercely - her nieces Jessie and Jinny, her nephew Julian. And, of course, Tiana and me. It was hard for her to love and so those of us who she did love knew that it was a gift to us. She could try the patience of a saint sometimes, but maybe that was one of the reasons she was put on this planet. We all learned something from her.
As a family, we will try to put together a timeline of her life. She told many of the same stories to all of us many times, but each of us probably has a separate piece or two to the puzzle that was her time here. It was a big life early on and, as an older woman, an increasingly small one. But the memories of the past were still fresh to her and kept her engaged. She loved nothing more than an audience to tell the stories to just one more time.
The last time I saw her was before I went to Spain. Lynne Rose and I stopped in for a couple of hours after we arrived and before we headed out the next day. Lynne was the recipient of a whole treasure trove of stories, complete with pictures largely from 1977 and 1978 - heady days for Tess. It was a good visit, despite her very frail status. Lynne was a great audience, gracious as always. We hugged, promising each other that we would go for a fancy strawberry tea when we got back. All three of us were looking forward to that.
So, we won't get that last cup of tea but I did get to say goodbye to the woman who was my mother-in-law legally for twelve years, but in my heart she had that title for the past twenty-two years. The good that was her will be missed by me.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.106s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 9; qc: 23; dbt: 0.071s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Leah and Ray
non-member comment
Sad for you
Hi Nancy, Your words of dedication for Tess were very moving. It is good that you made it happen to be with her in her final moments. Memories of her will live on in you forever. Life is so precious. You are showing that you are making the most of it with your friends. Lynne is doing the same. Well done. Leah