Today is Benji's birthday.
Today is Nanny's deathday.
I don't think that's a coincedence.
The correlation between birth and death was exemplified this morning as Nanny made the transition. My dad sat with her, listening to the rhythmic breathing patterns, not unlike childbirth. The physical pain of crossing over, he said, was astoundingly similar. I'm glad she died here and not in some nursing home surrounded by nurses who don't speak english. Our society doessn't like death. Does any society? The rituals af crossing over are vast and varied. Our societal impulse is "out of sight, out of mind" Put her in the Home and call me when she dies.
It makes sense on one level. If someone needs constant medical care, the Homes have the equipment. But they don't often have the people. I'm glad she went like she did.
There was a point last night when we were all gathered around her bed. She was present and far away at the same time. It was quiet for a long time. John cried . In an effort to keep her calm, John was hushed. Nanny said "No, no, it's okay to cry. Crying doesn't hurt." Such a simple statement never rang so true.
I prefer to describe the event as "taking an upgrade." She cashed in her chips on this particular table and got bumped to first class. Existence two point oh.