Bradford Lad: Sharing My Sister's Last Moments
With deep emotion, Mike Coatesworth recalls the day when his beloved sister Jean died.
It was a few years ago that my sister, Jean, contracted cancer and passed away. I know that my visits meant a lot to her and in honour of her name I have written a shortened tale of my last few days with her in the hope that it helps others suffering similar illnesses.
For several seconds I was rooted to the spot. “This couldn’t be my sister?” I thought to myself. In front of me sat a very mature person who appeared to be “ninety years plus.”
Jean looked across and saw me and appeared to be embarrassed? She spoke to me and again I was taken by surprise, I found that she still spoke in the same soft and gentle voice that she had always spoken. I couldn’t stop the single tear falling from the corner of my eye.
It was a short time later that I visited her at St Gemmas Hospice.
Jean’s head turned slightly and, as her eyes fell on me, her faced brightened. Her smile from ear to ear said how glad she was that I had arrived.
As we talked about the past and the future, I felt a gentle breeze from the open window. The bouquet of flowers in a vase on Jean’s window moved gently, wafting a beautiful aroma of assorted blooms around the room.
‘Don’t be sad for me,’ she said as she momentarily let go of my hand to pass me a tissue, ‘I’ll be there for you, always.’
The following day, as I entered the hospital side ward, the whole room was filled with brilliant sunshine. I arranged the pillows so that Jean had a better view of the activities that were going on outside her window. She laid her head against my shoulder. Her looks were heavenly as she stared out into the distance.
This reminded me of when I was a child. If I ever had a problem I would go to Jean who would place me on her knee and comfort me.
With tear-filled eyes, I began to point out what was going on in the gardens. We could hear the sounds from people and wildlife.
Jean was so happy and turned her dreamy eyes to me. I adjusted her position slightly to ensure that she was comfortable. I knew she wanted me to go on with my observations, so turning back to the window I pointed out the children playing. Even from a distance their joyous laughter reached us.
The doctor who a nurse had gone to fetch informed me that Jean was asleep.
With the tears almost blocking my vision, I informed him that I already knew. Wiping my eyes, smiling, I lifted my right arm in salute, waving to the figure that I could see.
‘Keep on writing Mike,’ she called out to me, ‘I’ll always be with you.’
‘I will,’ I replied loudly. ‘Save a place for me!’
She waved, moving towards the children, soon joinining in their laughter.
The stopped playing momentarily. They turned, all waving to me. I waved back as they gradually faded from my vision. I could still hear their laughter. One joyful could be heard above the others. My sister, Jean was now happy; I knew that she would take care of the children as she had taken care of me.
* *
Time for a Cuppa!
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