I'M AFRAID WHEN I 'SEE' THAT SOFT, VELVETY GRAY COLOR...
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES aka GRANNY GEE
Several days before... he was taken to the nursing home, a place he and Grandma Alma said they never wanted to go to in their older age. Somebody 'forgot' .... George went to the nursing home, he had no choice. It was 'for his own good'....
I worked at the hospital close by, I knew that I would be going there to check on him, make sure they treated him right... and I would 'sense' what was going on there with him.
'Why'? Because I used to work there before going to work in the office at the hospital I was working at... at that time. I 'knew' what went on there... I knew patients were unhappy with some of the nursing assistants who worked there. I was unhappy with some of them... when I worked there, they weren't afraid to show me their colors... some of them were 'dark colors'.
That's 'why' I knew I would know what to look for at that nursing home. I would go to battle for George, if needed. I knew the administrator... she had told me I could come back there ... anytime. I had a good work history there... I cared about those patients.
My co-workers, the ones who were 'good colors' liked me alot... the ones with 'dark colors'... didn't like nor trust me. They had said too much in front of me... I didn't forget. I hoped I wouldn't see them slap a patient like I heard one guy say.
I remember being shocked when I overheard him in the breakroom... I quietly asked him.... 'I know you don't mean you actually slapped a patient'? The answer in his exact words were ... 'you have to do that sometimes'.
I felt anger in my heart toward him, I never spoke to him again. I'm glad I 'never saw him strike a patient'... he would have had to 'strike me, too'. He would have known and felt ... the worst of storms around him... I would have fought for the patient he struck! He never liked me after saying that, he was watchful of me. So were his friends... whom I felt 'dark colors' about.
They were mean, hateful people... just there at a job for a paycheck, and they didn't want anything to make them have to ... work. The patients had better co-operate with them, or ... else. Sometimes patients 'fell'......
Yes, I would protect George if I even felt anything wrong. I didn't have to worry about protecting George...
One day soon after he went to that nursing home... he was brought to the hospital, he was admitted. The next morning he was taken for his x-ray, a normal procedure.
The night before, my cousin Sylvia, and I were at his hospital room visiting him. As I stood there looking down at George ... I 'saw' something I've seen several times in my entire life... I was worried.
I asked Sylvia if she 'saw' anything unusual on George's face. No, she said, she didn't see anything. I asked her if she 'saw the soft, velvety gray color' on his face. She didn't, she asked me 'why'?
I told her that I was worried, because each time I'd ever seen that 'soft, velvety gray color' on someone's face... they died soon after. Years later... I would 'see... that same soft, velvety gray color' on my brother, Rick-Rick's face.... the evening when he died that night at a 'friend's house'.
I was called back to the emergency room... the next day, at the time I knew George was at x-ray. At that time I worked in the front office in Communications... they wanted to tell me something.
George died... George died... George died during the x-ray. I stood there with such pain in my heart... I went to him. I walked to the table where he lay....
I looked into the face I loved very much... the only grandfather I ever knew, had in my life. This was my last link to Grandma Alma who had died years before. I felt hot tears on my face, and that very deep pain in my heart... George was gone... George was gone.
I stood there and what came to my mind that George had said, told me was ... 'they took my snuff away from me'. He was so upset, I had called to ask 'why'? They had said they didn't allow snuff there, it made a 'big mess'.
No matter... they took the snuff away from him, something he'd had for all his life almost... the one thing he had left to bring him comfort in a strange place... where he couldn't see anyone... he was blind.
He could hear only the staff's voices, I know some of them were sharp with him... to them he was a 'old, blind man'. They didn't know I loved him.... I never had time to let them 'know that he was my grandfather'.
I could 'feel my heart filling up with tears', I wanted to lay down and cry. I couldn't, I was in 'public'. My mother came... she stood there looking at George. I saw her eyes... she was hurt deeply... she never said a word and I watched her leave, walk up that hall to the exit door... open it and close it.
My mom never talked about George after that very much. I 'felt' the pain that was there. She was suffering inside, because she with several other family members, made the decision for George to go to the nursing home.... for his own good.
No matter how bad George's enviroment was... it was the only home, place he knew that he 'could see' with his blind eyes. He lost everything the day he was taken from there... to a place he said he never wanted to go to... for his 'own good'.
He once could 'see with his blind eyes'... he 'became completely blind' when he went to unfamiliar territory... his path became 'dark'. George was 'lost on his path in life'. He didn't know where to go but, to... die.
He laid there on that table... as I walked toward his body... I could see that his mouth was open. I turned my head alittle to the side to 'see why'?
I walked up to him, the answer was there in front of me. I saw his whole face... on his face I saw 'such relief'... I 'saw and felt him take a deep breath in my mind'... as he let it out... 'I felt he 'let go' and just.... died'.
I saw a soft little smile in his eyes... at that moment 'I knew George meant to die, he meant not to be at that nursing home... he wasn't going back... he was going home to Grandma Alma'. He was going to be with the one who loved him, the one he grieved for those years without her.
I 'know' that's why I saw that little smile... in my mind I could 'see' Grandma Alma walking (she was paralyzed while living)... walking in bright sunlight... with her hand reaching out for George to take. She was smiling to at last see her love... coming home to her.
As George reached out to take her loving hand... George 'let go' of this world with that little, sweet smile that was left on his face. In my mind... I 'saw' this. I 'knew' the night before... something was going to happen.
George was loved by so many of the children of Grandma Alma's daughters... so many of the children of their children. He was the grandfather no one ever had.
For some reason, this Easter weekend... I am thinking of my loved ones who ... aren't here this Easter. Most everyone is gone... I'm so thankful for Skip and our Pups... I would be alone without them.
As for 'seeing, feeling colors' as you all by now... know that I do... the 'soft, velvety gray color' is the ... color... I don't want to 'see'. I love gray... gray and pink together... it becomes a happy color when with a 'bright' color.
SOFT, VELVETY GRAY COLOR BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE... 4-07-2012
Soft, velvety gray color... just before someone goes home
I stand there seeing, knowing you have to go... alone
I feel the pain inside knowing I have to 'let go' of you
This is your path you have to walk, you know it... too
Goodbye my dear, loved one
Our togetherness, link to life here on earth... is now done
Soft, velvety gray color on your skin like a cover
I know now... that over you... death hovers
Ready to take you home
I know ... that you have to go alone
No more suffering... no more pain where you go
It still hurts me deeply... though I 'know'.
Colors As I Go
grief (32) only child (4) Scary (2) Boiled eggs (1) Distrust (1) Don't call me Faye (1) Dying (1) I hate to be called Faye (1) I'm afraid of the dark (1) Middle age woman (1) Pain that reaches the soul.. can't be seen (1) Running (1) Where did my youth go? (1) dying in a beautiful way (1) life is fragile (1) light on my path (1) my son (1)