Can I tell you something, Gremmie? When my dad was dying, he said that if I wanted to stay that I’d have to man up. He could no longer sooth me. He needed to focus. It was he, who was dying after all. I did, I manned up. He was 51 when he died.
I can’t think of anyone in my life that has enough emotional intelligence to offer support. I’ll probably have to sooth them during my death.
I had a few complications during childbirth. My family freaked out. They even started grabbing the physician’s arm to get his attention. They wanted him to sooth them, while he was trying to work. I’ll never forget the nurse’s name. Her name was Mary. I called out her name over and over. She was competent and her confidence was soothing. I saw her the other day. She still remembered me. There’s this scene in the movie “The Grey”, where Ottway is comforting Lewenden . Lewenden is panicking and he says, "Listen! Listen! You're gonna die, that's what's happening. It’s okay. It’s okay." His confidence reminded me of Mary.
My dad started to have a few hallucinations, which is common during the final stages, seeing dead people, that sort of thing. I didn't intervene, until he had a fearful one, then I just reassured him. My family thought his hallucinations were evidence of an afterlife. They kept trying to wake him up to ask him questions about dead people. They were putting their needs before his. I told them to get a grip or get the fuck out.
Oh well, people just being people, I suppose.
See ya later, Gremmie.
