Dear N. you sweet old lady,
I have only the faintest memory of you. I am told passionately by those close to me and to your family that I spent the better part of my childhood fiddling around in your house with your children's children. Now that, I do remember. You see when I was some 7 years old, I was infatuated with your granddaughter Z., P.'s daughter, A.'s sister.
I have to look back, well at least at what these people have told me, and sit in wonder at the way our lives parted so long ago, and how they were brought back together on that fateful afternoon.
You are an ill lady, poor old N.,
I was surprised a few times to come across your name on our inpatient records. Always wondered how you were doing. Always wished you the best.
I was surprised on said afternoon to see your name on the ER patient list.
I was awestruck a few hours later as I heard your monitor beeping. Code Blue.
I was there, in your final moments. I was helping. We fought hard to bring you back. It wasn't to be.
I was gutted, as your grandson A. said in no uncertain words: "let her go".
I am sorry. There was nothing more we could do.
I was tearful when I got out of your room.
I was torn to see A.'s face after all these years, calling the family with the news. Bluntness was the order of the day.
My dearest N. you see the people you have helped create, have made our life so much better. And from faint memories and tales told, you were keen to see us grow.
I hate it that we had no chance to get reacquainted.
My dearest N.
May you rest in peace.
Thoughts go out to Z. my first childhood crush. and A., The ER physician who supervised resuscitation efforts on his own grandmother in steadfast composure, professionalism, and, ultimately, realism. You are an inspiration to us all.
