The Last Heartbeat

Grammy has agreed to step in as guest blogger again. This particular post has been so very hard to read, very hard to edit and hard for me to release to the world.  But, on this third anniversary of Girly Girl's cancer diagnosis, in her memory and honor, I share this with you.

Always Grammy's Girl

It was approaching sunset on a beautiful October evening.  The sky was streaked with red and the sun was warm.  Trees were changing and wore brilliant dresses of orange and red.  This was to be Girly Girl's last night we would see her until we passed over the bridge ourselves.  The Vet was there with her assistant and everything was held up until Charlie and I arrived.  As sick as GG was she got up and ran to the gate to greet us.  She had been bleeding from the nose and there was no hope left for recovery.  But the steel magnolia had not given up yet. Someone had to help her over the bridge and her mother, my daughter, was the only one she could depend on.  The fight had lasted a year, loss of a leg, numerous chemo sessions, numerous radiology sessions, numerous blood tests, numerous x-rays, but the outcome was apparently inevitable.  We were saying our final farewell to our beloved GG, the little girl that could.

Veronica sat on the ground in GG’s favorite sunning spot and had GG lay down in her lap.  The Vet gave her the first shot to relax her and then the killing shot, except it didn’t.  This 58 pound dog’s heart would not stop.  Her mother was murmuring in her ear to go, to let it all go, that it was ok, that she would see her again.  But her heart beat on.  The Vet shook her head and gave her another shot.  Girly Girl relaxed and taking a deep breath, exhaled as her mother rocked her in her arms.

Charlie offered to pick her up but Veronica, tears streaming down her face, said ‘No, this is my job, this is my privilege.”  She went inside and got warm wet cloths and bathed her there in the setting sun and then wrapping her in a white sheet carried her inside to her bed and laid her down.  We sat around, amazed that our own hearts were still beating, there was no way they could survive this but somehow they did. 

As an adult I’ve lost many things, my mother, my father, my beloved grandmother but never did I feel pain like this.  I had been in the presence of the last perfect heartbeat of a perfect soul.