The Last Goodnight: A Grandchild’s Final Moment of Love with Grandma

The sun had already gone down and colored the room with the soft light of gold. A low lamp on the couch made the living room warm. It was as though the lamp was trying as hard as it could to keep the darkness at its distance and rendering a tender comfort. Grandma sat in the centre of this stillness, her silver hair gleaming softly in the light. She was a frail person but her eyes were still filled with love and a strength that could only dominate a room.

Several years had passed thus evenings of hers. She would take a glass of water, medicine and prepare to go to bed. Her grandchild was with her, tonight as always. It was a thing little or everyday, but it was a detail of affection to both of them.

The glass of water was lifted by her grandchild and then brought up to the lips. Grandma sipped slowly, waiting a little between sips, her trembling hands in her lap. She was no longer strong enough to be able to do everything on her own, but she had something much more valuable, the kind love of a person who can help.

It was an easy thing to do, feed her, hold the glass, assist her as she would not have spilled a drop. To the grandchild, however, this was not merely an obligation. It was a privilege, a means of expressing gratitude to Grandma, to everything she had done over the years–the stories she had told, the meals she had prepared, the comfort she had provided whenever life had turned too difficult.

They were unaware at that time that this was to be their last night together in this ritual. Life conceals such moments in plain sight sometimes so that they seem ordinary, when in truth, they are not.

Grandma smiled a little as she drank. She smiled a little, years of affection in it. She recalled that her grandchild was small, and she used to run to her, demanding snacks, or hide in her bed when there was a thunderstorm. She recalled the memories of the past when her home was full of laughter, the aroma of fresh-baked bread, and family dinner commotion.

There was quieter now in the house. The children were older and time had slowed her. Yet to this stillness she could find peace. She did not fear aging. She did not fear being in need. It was beautiful to her to see her grandchild grow up and now she was the one taking care of her as she used to do.

To the grandchild, there were words and words and words on the silence. Sentences of love and gratitude and fear. Joy of her still being here, and fear of losing her sometime in the future. The goodbye was too much to have to think about and so they concentrated on what was here and now–the water, the soothing feeding, the hushed reassurance.

Grandma sat back on the couch, exhausted but content, when she was done drinking. Her grandchild supported her slowly and directed her to the bedroom. It was slightly lavender-scented, her most favorite scent. There was a neatly-made bed, as usual, with a soft quilt which she had sewed many years before.

Grandma sank gradually into the mattress, and lay down. Her grandchild straightened the pillow under her head, drew the blanket to her chest, and stroked her hair. It was more or less like putting a child to bed, only this time around it was the other way round.

Thank you, my love, said Grandma in a low voice, which was not very strong, but quite warm.
No, you do not have to thank me, Grandma; the grandchild responded, holding the hand. You have done so much to me in life. That is nothing as compared to this.”

Grandma smiled once more and the eyes seemed to shut as though she was falling into a quiet dream. She said something more, and it was so low that it almost disappeared in the air:
You have done all I want. I may take a repose now.”

The grandchild did not have the depth of those words at that moment. They believed it was the way she was saying goodnight. However, they would later on understand that it was her form of saying goodbye.

That night was usual. The grandchild sat by her awhile and watched her breathe, and heard the little rise and fall of her breast. It eased the feelings, like music. At last they went to bed believing that they were safe and asleep.

Life is fragile. In other occasions it even turns out that the final moments pass almost unnoticed. Grandma was away by morning. She had died in her sleep, as she had wanted it to.

The heart of the grandchild was torn to pieces. The glass of water, the smile, the sweet words, they had re-lived the last night over and over in their mind. It was excruciating at first, the thought that it was the last moment. Gradually, however, with the lapse of time, they started to look at it in a different way.

After more than 20 years, it turned out to be the greatest gift of all: it was a good act, apparently, to help Grandma drink, and to put her to bed. To spend time with her, to take care of her, to keep her hand in her last moments, they could. No remorse of lost opportunities, no shame of not being there. Rather, there was a memory of love, kindness and peace.

The grandchild understood that love does not count in large happenings or expensive presents. Love is a small matter, as it is in a glass of water or a blanket pinned. Such things may appear to be little at that moment but they are the moments that bear the most significance.

This was not the end of the story of the death of Grandma. Her love was continued through grandchild. Each night after that they thought of her. They also felt her presence with them, especially when they assisted somebody. She had not only left behind memories, but a mode of life caring for others with patience, gentleness and unconditional love.

Several years later when the grandchild was much older and had children of his/her own, he/she told them about Grandma. They talked of her firmness, her gentleness, her little smile. They recounted the incident of the last bedtime, and how it had been the most important of all.

And so the Grandma lived on. Not only in memory but also in the manner of the transfer of love one good deed after another. What appeared to be a usual night turned out to be a lovely finale, full of respect, harmony and love.