—Moments Past—
May 28th, 2005
We stood in a circle creating a Prayer Chain around Nana’s bed.
Each of us held hands.
Pawpaw had just finished saying the most beautiful Prayer I’d ever heard him say. I didn’t know he had those words inside of him.
“Lord, I commit Nana’s Spirit into your hands,” and that was it.
Nana exhaled her last breath.
The room was silent.
The Hospice Nurse took Nana’s pulse, as did my cousins, who are also Registered Nurses. Nana had no pulse.
The Hospice Nurse, who has experienced this hundred’s of times, if not thousands, said, “Do you feel that? It’s her spirit leaving her body. I can feel it.”
The lap dog, who had been sitting quietly in the room the whole time, started howling at the ceiling above Nana’s body.
The howls turned to “Yapping.”
Papa looked at me, and I looked at Papa. Then, we both went back to looking at the dog.
The dog seemed excited at something above Nana’s body, near the ceiling.
If I had to guess, I’d say the dog was happy about something.
Yes, that’s the best way to describe it. He was happy. Happy.
