Queen Ette is Dying.

Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck.
George Carlin
-One of Granny's favorite contemporary writers.

My Granny is dying.

I spent a week by her side, visiting her almost every day. I nearly crumbled from exhaustion due to insomnia. I'm home now, and getting my wind back.

I think my inability to express myself was part of my sleeplessness. I had to take care not to upset my Auntie, Granny's very ill sister, and so did my damndest not to cry. Me, not cry, while my Gran's so sick. Hard. Impossible. I did well up a few times, but really couldn't express it out.
I had a terrible blow towards the end of my stay, encouraging me to leave a day earlier and return to my regular life.

Granny is doing well now, resting comfortably, being adored, showered with affection, girlfriends, and daughters began arriving from California, Toronto, Ottawa, Vancouver and Thai Land.

She is in a newly constructed Palliative Care Unit, and beyond all pain.
The day we had all arrived and congregated included pampering and joy.

My mother and Gran's friend, both nurses, bathed her in a tub up to her neck, with bubble bath and body lotion, she was rubbed down afterwards with a gentle massage.

I took care to put her musk oil on just the way she likes it, one dab behind each ear, a couple dabs under her nose, one under each nostril, and I always put a little extra on her fingers because she is so cute when she rubs her hands together and over her face, and grins.
One of her chosen daughters wrapped a lovely purple scarf around her shoulders, another blow dried her hair and did her make up.

She was stunning.

As we wheeled her through the hall, everyone who encountered her gave her big happy smiles. She was priceless, lifting her arms high over her head with her elegant queenly wave. She was met by shouts of greeting when we turned the corner to the lounge where vigilant family members of other tribes gathered to mourn their own fading suns and moons.

We fed her chocolate, lit her cigerattes, poured her coffee, smuggled in Play Girl, her friends and daughter brought in potted flowers, and easter arrangements. We took care to visit in small groups of twos and three's and from time to time visited her singly for some well needed one on one time.

I'll be returning as soon as I'm rested, and the crowd thins to continue assisting with closing up her house, and all those other little dots and tees to cross.

I told Granny to leave me a piece of my heart when she goes, because I still need it to function. She said don't you know? The biggest piece of my heart is yours.
~