The day before my grandmother died, I went into her room with the LSB and I read Psalms and matins to her, or was it the Compline. It was the Compline although it was morning. Hospice had given her a fair amount of morphine at that point and she would not respond to me.
Oh how I loved her.
I did not stay as long as I wanted. My wife and kids were home on a Saturday morning, and my wife's mom was in her last month of life as well, dying from pancreatic cancer.
Today it just came crushing in on me - I did not give her the time I owed her. I should have stayed until she died. I didn't.
I was with my mother in law until she died. Prayed the Our Father with her as she drew her last breaths. Saw my Father Confessor and her's commend her in her dying moments. Sang "Lamb of God Pure and Holy" after the spirit left her body. I saw it out. I stuck it out. I got our boys out of the house so that she could die. She so did not want to die with her precious grandsons in the house. I made sure pastor was there in time. I was faithful to the end for her and struggled through the nights between Christmas and Sylvester with her.
I did not suffer with my grandmother although she took us in at a young age and loved us.
I pray she forgives me of my cowardice. I pray the Lord forgives me as well.