Watching death happen

I just came from the hospice unit near Tel Aviv. I went today because my cousin asked me to come. She asked me to bring her some lunch and to be with her while her husband, Shai’s family was at a memorial service all day for Shai’s deceased brother, Dror.

The hospital is not far from my home. I should go be with her more often.

It is a beautiful building. Lots of light and air. Clean rooms and from what I could tell today, the staff was attentive and gentle.

My cousin is strong. She is very open about her husband dying. She speaks of it, wants to understand what will happen next, is planning for her future. She has three-year-old triplets who she is trying to help through this as well. They are not sleeping at night, so neither is she.

There is not much anyone can do. I can make meals for her and I can keep her company at the hospital. She very much wants to keep her girls on a schedule and be with them at home, rather than at the hospital all day.

Watching death. As I watched Shai breathe today I was reminded of my Grandmother’s final hours. Although Shai was in and out of awake ness today, when he slept (which was most of the morning) his breathing was very labored. I remember Grama, puttering her lips, trying to breathe.

When Shai was awake, he would smile. His words were barely audible. His cousin came to visit and gave him a shave. Diana fed him a couple spoonfuls of yogurt.

The body just stops functioning.

Just so sad.

So sad…

Watching death happen.

Please pray -- Shai ben Batsheva.